Pulp Bebop
by Chibi Milliardo Peacecraft
Summary: What Do Two Bounty Hunters, A Hacker, A Sexy Girlfriend, A Syndicate Leader, And A Secret Briefcase have in common? The Complete Updated Version. Rated R For Graphic Violence, Strong Persuasive Language, Drug Use, And Some Sexual Situations. *Complete*
1. Prologue Part 1

Note: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or Pulp Fiction. They belong to their rightful owners and creators. This is just a fic I crossed between the two. Thank you and enjoy the fic. ^_^  
  
Pulp (pulp) - a soft, moist, shapeless mass of matter  
  
Bebop (be'bop)   
  
1. Another form of rhythm and blues and jazzy genres.  
  
2. One of the best anime series of all time.  
  
A normal old fashion coffee shop in Venus. It is about 8:00 in the morning. While the place is jammed, there is a healthy number of people drinking coffee, munching on breakfast. Two of these people are Coffee and Shaft Brother. The young man has a slight working class accent and, like his fellow countrymen, smokes cigars like they are going out of style. It is impossible to tell where Coffee is from or how old she is: everything she does contradicts something she did. The two sit in a booth.  
  
"No, forget it, it is too risky. I am through doing that shit." Shaft Brother said.   
  
"You always say that, the same thing every damn time: never again, i am thorugh, too fucking dangerous." Coffee said.   
  
"I know that is what I always say. I am always right too, but --"   
  
"--but you forget about it in a day or two --" Coffee interrupted.   
  
"-- yeah, well, the days of me forgetting are over, and the days of me remembering have just fucking begun." Shaft Brother said.   
  
"When you go on like this, you know what you sound like?" she asked.   
  
"I sound like a sensible fucking man, is what I sound like." he answered.   
  
"You sound like a pimp who is retired from bounty hunting."   
  
"Well take heart, because you are never gonna have to hear it again. Because since I am never gonna do it again, you are never gonna have to hear me sound like a retired fucking pimp about how i am never gonna do it again." Shaft Brother said.   
  
"After tonight." Coffee said. The two laugh, their laughter putting a pause in there, back and forth.   
  
"Correct. I got all tonight to act like one." Shaft Brother said as a waitress comes by with a pot of coffee.   
  
"Can I get anybody anymore coffee?" she asked.   
  
"Oh yes, thank you." The waitress pours her some more coffee. Shaft Brother lights up another cigar.  
  
"I am doing fine." he said. The waitress leaves. Shaft Brother takes a drag off of his cigar. Coffee pours a ton of cream and sugar into her drink. Shaft Brother goes right back into it.   
  
"I mean the way it is now, you are taking the same fucking risk as when you rob a federal building. You take more of a risk. Federal buildings are not supposed to stop you anyway, during a robbery. They are insured, why should they care? You do not even need a rifle in a federal building. I heard about this guy, walked into a federal building with a rope, handed the rope to the teller, the guy on the other end of the phone said: 'We got this guy's bitch, and if you do not give him all your woolong, we are gonna kill her.'" Shaft Brother continued.   
  
"Did it work?" Coffee asked.   
  
"Fucking A it worked, that is what I am talking about! Knucklehead bastard walks in a federal building with a rope, not pistol, not a shotgun, not a magnum, but a fucking rope, cleans the place out and they do not lift a fucking finger." Shaft Brother answered.   
  
"Did they hurt this little bitch?" she asked.   
  
"I do not know. There probably never was a little bitch in the first place -- the point of the story is not the little bitch. The point of the story is they robbed the federal building with a rope." Shaft Brother said.   
  
"You wanna rob federal buildings?"   
  
"I am not saying I wanna rob federal buildings, I am just illustrating that if we did, it would be easier than what we been doing." he said.   
  
"So you do not want to be a federal thief?" she said.   
  
"No, all those guys are going down the same road, either fucking dead or serving twenty or over."   
  
"And no more liquor stores?" Coffee said.   
  
"What have we been talking about? Yeah, no-more liquor stores. Besides, it is not the giggle it used to be. Too many fucking foreigners own liquor stores. Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, they cannot fucking speak english. You tell them: "Empty out the register," and they do not know what it fucking means. They make it too personal. We keep on, one of those gook motherfuckers are gonna make us kill them." Shaft Brother said.   
  
"I am not gonna kill anybody." Coffee said as Shaft Brother continued.   
  
"I do not want to kill anybody either. But they will probably put us in a situation where it is us or them. And if not the gooks, it is these old fucking pimps who have owned the store for twenty fucking generations. You got Grandpa Antonio sitting behind the counter with a fucking magnum over his ass. Try walking into one of those stores with nothing but a rope, see how far it gets you. Fuck it, forget it, we are out of it." he said.   
  
"Well, what else is there, night jobs?" Coffee said.   
  
"Not this lifetime." Shaft Brother said while laughing.   
  
"Well what then?" She asked as Shaft Brother calls to the waitress.   
  
"Sista! Coffee!" he said and then looks to his girl.   
  
"This place." Shaft Brother said as the waitress comes by, pouring him some more and splits.  
  
"Here? It is a coffee shop, goddamn it!" Coffee said.   
  
"What is wrong with that? People never rob restuarants, why not? Bars, liquor fucking stores, gas goddamn stations, you get your head blown off sticking up one of them. Restuarants, on the other hand, you catch with their pants down. They are not expecting to get robbed, or not as expecting." Shaft Brother said as Coffee takes to idea.   
  
"I bet in places like this you could cut down on the hero factor."   
  
"Correct. Just like federal buildings, these places are insured. The managers do not give a fuck. they are just trying to get you out the door before you start plugging diners. Waitresses, forget it, they are not taking a bullet for the register. Busboys, some dumbass getting paid a dollar fifty an hour gonna really give a fuck you are stealing from the owner. Customers are sitting there with food in their mouths, they do not know what the hell is going on. One minute they are having a beef with bell peppers, next minute somebody is sticking a magnum in their face." Shaft Brother said. Coffee visibly takes in the idea. Shaft Brother continues in a low voice.   
  
"See, I got the idea last fucking liquor store we stuck up. Remember all those goddamn customers kept coming in?" "Yeah."   
  
"There you got the idea to take everybodys wallet."   
  
"Uh-huh."   
  
"That was a good idea."   
  
"Thank you."   
  
"We made more from the wallets then we did the register."   
  
"Yes we did."   
  
"A lot of people go to restuarants."   
  
"A lot of wallets.   
  
"Pretty smart, huh?" Coffee scans the restuarant with this new information.  
  
She sees all the patrons eating, lost in conversations. The tires waitress, taking orders. The busboys going through the motions, collecting dishes. The manager complaining to the cook about fucking up something. A smile breaks out on Coffee's face.   
  
"Pretty smart. I am ready, let us go, right here, right now." she said.   
  
"Remember, same as before, you are crowd control, I handle the employees." Shaft Brother said. They both take out their .45 caliber pistols and lay them on the table. He looks at her and she looks back at him, removing her shades.   
  
"I love you, Shaft Brother."   
  
"I love you, Coffee." And with that, Shaft Brother and Coffee grab their weapons, stand up and rob the restuarant. Shaft Brother's robbery personality is that of the in-control professional. Coffee's Personality is that of the pure psychopathic, hair-triggered, loose cannon.   
  
"Everybody be fucking cool this is a robbery!" Shaft Brother yelled out to all.   
  
"Any of you fucking pricks move and I will execute every motherfucking last one of you!" Coffee shouted out. 


	2. Prologue Part 2

Pulp Bebop  
  
Cast of Characters:  
  
Spike Spiegel as Vincent Vega  
Jet Black as Jules Winnfield  
Vicious as Marsellus Wallace  
Faye Valentine as Mrs. Mia Wallace  
Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV as Prizefighter Butch Coolidge  
Mao Yenrai as "The Wolf" Winston Wolf  
The Pimp as The Gimp  
Witney Hagas Matsumoto as Brett  
Julius The Transvestite as Marvin  
Domino Walker as "Flock of Ravens" Roger  
Antonio as "English Dave" Paul  
Carlos as Lance  
Judy as Jody  
Julia as Trudi  
Katerina as Buddy Holly  
Jobin as Captain Koons  
Coffee as Yolanda "Hunny Bunny"  
Shaft Brother as "Pumpkin"  
Gordon as Zed  
Harrison as Maynard  
Gould as Esmerelda Villalobos  
Wen as Fabienne  
  
An old, fashioned, fishing ship, greenish color with the word Bebop marked on the middle, barrels down the galaxy gateway in Venus. In the front seat are two former bounty hunters turned hitmen - both are wearing black suits with thin black ties under long blue green dusters. Their names are Spike Spiegel (former Red Dragon Syndicate member) and Jet Black (former ISSP officer). Jet Black is behind the wheel.  
  
"Okay now, tell me about the Red Dragon Syndicate?" Jet said.   
"What do you want to know?" Spike said.   
"Well, the Red Dragon Syndicate is illegal here, right?" he said.   
"Yeah, it is illegal, but it is not one hundred percent illegal. I mean they start a bar brawl, roll a weed and start puffing away their victory dance. You are only supposed to smoke in bars with cigars or cigarettes." Spike said.   
"That is the Red Dragon Syndicate?" Jet asked.   
"Yeah, it breaks down like this: It is legal to become one, it is illegal to kill someone that has nothing against the Syndicate, and if you are the proprietor of a bar. it is legal to own it, which does not fucking matter, because - get a load of this, Jet. - If the cops stop you, it is illegal to search a member of the syndicate. Searching you is a right that the cops in Mars do not have." Spike answered.   
"That did it, man - I am fucking going, that is all there is to it." Jet said.   
"You will dig it the most. But you know what the funniest thing about Jupiter is?" Spike said.   
"What?" Jet asked.   
"It is the little differences. A lot of the same shit we got here, they got there, but there they are a little different." Spike answered.   
"Examples?"   
"Well, in Jupiter, you can buy wine in a movie theater. And I do not mean in a paper cup either. They give you a glass of wine, like in a bar. In Mars, you can buy Wine in El Rey's restuarant. Also, you know what they call a Beef with Bell Peppers in France?" Spike said.   
"They do not call it Beef with Bell Peppers?"   
"No, they got the metric system on earth, they would not know what the fuck a Beef with Bell Peppers is."   
"Then what do they call it?" Jet asked.   
"They call it, Royale with beef."   
"Royale with beef. But what do they call a Rice?" he said.   
"Rice is Rice, but they call it Le Rice." Spike said.  
"Le Rice. And what do they call a steak?"  
"I do not know, I did not go into an Outback Steakhouse. But you know what they put on Beef with bell papers in Pluto?"  
"What?"  
"Tabasco sauce."  
"Goddamn!"  
"I seen them do it. And I do not mean a little bit on the side of the plate, they fucking drown them in it."  
"Uucch!"  
  
The trunk of the Bebop opens up, Spike Spiegel and Jet Black reach inside, taking out two magnums, loading and cocking them. "We should of had rifles for this kind of deal." Jet said.   
"How many up there?" Spike asked.   
"Three or four. Counting our guy I am not sure." Jet answered.   
"So there could be five guys up there?" Spike said.   
"It is impossible." Jet said.   
"We should have fucking rifles." Spike said as they closed the trunk of the Bebop.  
  
Spike and Jet, their long matching overcoats practically dragging on the ground, walk through the courtyard of what looks like a hacienda-style Venus apartment building. "What is her name?" Spike asked.   
"Faye Valentine." Jet answered.   
"How did Vicious and her meet?" Spike asked.   
"I do not know, however people meet people. She used to be a blackjack dealer." Jet said.  
"She ever do anything I would see?"  
"I think her biggest deal was she cheated someone off of poker in the casino down at Venus."  
"What is poker?"  
"Well, you know the card games they play in the casinos?"  
"I do not play cards that much."  
"Yes, but you are aware that there is a game called poker and in that game they place their bets?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, the way they play blackjack is they first place their bets before beginning to play and then whoever wins take the winnings as it keeps going on and on and on until they decide if they want to quit playing poker. then the dealer decides if they should stop or they continue. some continue and some have to quit to better luck next time. She was banned from the casino for cheating in a poker game with a bunch of high rollers." Jet said as they enter the apartment.  
  
Spike Spiegel and Jet Black walk through the reception area and wait for the elevator. "You remember, Abdul Hakim? Half-indy, half-white, used to call him Abdul Shady."   
"Yeah maybe, afro man right?" Spike said.   
"I would not go so far as to call the guy afro man. He has got a skitzo problem. What is the boy going to do, he is indy." Jet said.   
"I think I know who you mean, what about him?" Spike asked.   
"Well, Marsellus Vicious fucked his ass up good. And word around the galaxy, it was on account of Marsellus Vicious' wife." Jet said as the elevator arrives, the men walk in.   
"What did he do, fuck her?" Spike asked.   
"No no no no no no no no, nothing that bad." Jet said.   
"Well what then?" he asked.   
"He gave her a breast massage." Jet answered.   
"A breast massage?" Spike said as Jet nods his head: "Yes."   
"What did Vicious do?"   
"Sent a couple of his men over to his place. They took him out on the patio of his apartment, threw his ass over the balcony. Hakim fell nine stories. They had this garden at the bottom, enclosed in glass, like one of them greenhouses - Hakim fell through that. Since then, he has kind of developed a speech impediment." Jet said as the elevator doors open, Spike and Jet exit.   
"That is a damn shame." Spike said.  
  
"Still I have to say, play with fire you get your ass burned." Spike said as he and Jet make a beeline down the hall.  
"What do you mean, Spike?" Jet said.   
"You do not be giving Marcellus Vicious' new bride a breast massage." Spike answered.   
"You do not think he overreacted?"   
"Hakim probably did not expect Vicious to react like he did, but he had to expect a reaction."   
"It was a breast massage, a breast massage is nothing, I give my wife a breast massage." Jet said.   
"It is laying hands on Marsellus Vicious' new wife in a familiar way. Is it as bad as eating her pussy out - no, but you are in the same fucking ballpark." Spike said as Jet stops him.   
"Whoa...whoa...whoa...stop right there, Spike. Eating a bitch out, and giving a bitch a breast massage are not even the same fucking thing."   
"Not the same thing, the same ballpark." Spike said.   
"It is not no motherfucking ballpark either. Look maybe your method of massage differs from mine, but touching his lady's breasts, and sticking your tongue in her holyiest of holyies, are not the same ballpark, are not the same league, are not even the same fucking sport. Breast massages do not mean shit." Jet said.   
"Have you ever given a breast massage?" Spike said.   
"Do not be telling me about breast massages. - I am the breast fucking master." Jet answered.   
"Given a lot of them?"   
"Hell yeah. I got my technique down man, I do not tickle or nothing."   
"Have you ever given a guy a breast massage?" Spike said. Jet Black looks at him a long moment. - he has been set up. "Fuck you, Spike." Jet starts walking down the hall. Spike, smiling, walks a little bit behind.   
"How many?"   
"Fuck you, Spike."   
"Would you give me a breast massage - I am kind of tired."   
"Spike, you best back off, I am getting pissed and besides man do not even have fucking breasts - this is the door." The two men stand in front of the door numbered "62." they whisper.   
"What time is it?" Jet asked.   
"Seven-twenty-five in the morning." Spike said while checking his watch.   
"It is not quite time, let's hang back." They move a little away from the door, facing each other, still whispering.   
"Look, just because I would not give no man a breast massage, does not make it right for Vicious to throw Abdul off a building into a glass-motherfucking-house, fucking up the way the man talks. That shit is not right, man. Motherfucker do something like that to me, he better paralyze my ass, because I would bite the motherfucker. Understand?" Jet said.   
"I am not saying he was right, but you are saying a breast massage does not mean nothing, and I am saying it does. I have given a thousand ladies a thousand breast massages and they all mean something. We act like they don't, but they do. That is what's so fucking cool about them. This sensual thing is going on that nobody is talking about, but you know it and she knows it, fucking Marsellus Vicious knew it, and Hakim should of known fucking better. That is his fucking wife, man. He is not gonna have a sense of humor about that shit at all." Spike said.   
"That is an interesting point, but let us get into character." Jet said.   
"What is her name again?"   
"Faye Valentine. Why the hell you so interested in big man's wife?"   
"Well, Vicious is leaving for Jupiter and when he is gone, he wants me to take care of Faye." Spike said.   
"Take care of her?" Jet said while making a gun out of his finger and placing it to his head.   
"Not that! Take her out. Show her a good time. Do not let her get lonely." Spike said.   
"You are gonna be taking Faye Valentine out on a date?" Jet said.   
"It is not a date. It is like when you and your pal's wife go to a movie or something. It is just you know...good company." Jet Black just looks at him.   
"It is not a date. I am not gonna be a bad boy." Jet shakes his head and mumbles to himself.   
"Bitch is gonna kill more men than time."   
"What was that, Jet?"   
"Nothing. Let us get into character."   
"What did you say?"   
"I did not say shit, Spike. Let's go to work."   
"Do not play with me, Jet, you said something, now what the fuck was it?"   
"Do you want to do this?"   
"I want you to repeat what you said."   
"That door is gonna open in about twenty-five seconds, so get yourself together --"   
"-- my self is together --"   
"-- bullshit it is. Stop thinking about Faye, and get yourself together like a qualified pro."  
  
Three young guys obviously in over their heads, sit at a table with hamburgers, french fries and soda pops laid out. One of them flips the loud bolt on the door, opening it to reveal Spike Spiegel and Jet Black in the hallway. "Hey kids." The two men stroll inside. The three young caught-off-guard guys are:  
  
Julius  
A transvestite from the streets of Blue Crow where there are no women.  
  
Witney Hagas Matsumoto  
A lying lowlife conman who targets vulnerable (gullible) women.  
  
Domino Walker  
A sneaky illegal mushroom dealer.  
  
Spike Spiegel and Jet Black take in the place, with their hands in their pockets. Jet is the one who does the talking. "How you boys doing?" he said and there was no answer. "Am I tripping or did I just ask you a question."   
"We are doing okay." Witney said as he and Jet talk, Spike moves behind the young guys.   
"Do you know who we are?" Jet asked as Witney shakes his head: "No."   
"We are associates of your business partner Marsellus Vicious, you do remember your business partner do you?" Jet said and no answer came. "Now I am gonna take a wild guess here: You are Witney, right?"   
"I am Witney."   
"I thought so. Well, you remember your business partner Marsellus Vicious, do you Witney?" Jet asked.   
"I remember him." Witney answered.   
"Good for you. Looks like me and Spike caught you at breakfast, sorry about that. What are you eating?"   
"Hamburgers."   
"Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. What kind of hamburgers?" he asked.   
"Cheeseburgers." Witney said.   
"No, I mean where did you get them?"   
"Big Kahuna Burger." Witney answered.   
"Big Kahuna Burger. That is that hawaiian burger joint. I heard they got some tasty burgers. I ain't never had one myself, how are they?"   
"They are good."   
"Mind if I try one of yours?" Jet said.   
"No."   
"Yours is this one, right?"   
"Yeah." Witney said as Jet grabs the burger and take a bite of it.   
"Uuummmm, that is one tasty burger. Spike, you ever try a Big Kahuna Burger?" Jet asked.   
"No." Spike answered as Jet holds out the Big Kahuna.   
"You wanna bite, they are real good." Jet said.   
"I am not hungry." Spike said.   
"Well, if you like hamburgers give them a try sometime. Me, I cannot usually eat them cause my former girlfriend is a vegetarian. Which more or less makes me a vegetarian, but I sure love the taste of a good burger. Say, Witney, You know what they call Beef with Bell Peppers in France?" Jet said.   
"No." Witney said.   
"Tell them, Spike."   
"Royale with Beef."   
"Royale with Beef, you know why they call it that?" Jet asked.   
"Because of the metric fucking system?"   
"Check out the big brain on Witney. You are one smart motherfucker, that is right. The metric system." Jet said as he points to a fast food cup. "What is in this?"   
"Mountain Dew."   
"Mountain Dew, good, mind if I have some of your tasty beverage to wash this down with?"   
"Sure." Witney said as Jet grabs the cup and takes a sip.   
"Uuuuummmm, hit's the spot!" Jet said as he turns to Domino Walker.   
"You, Flock of Ravens, you know what we are here for?" Domino nods his head: "Yes." "Then why don't you tell my boy here Spike, where you got the shit hid."   
"It is under the be -"   
"-- I do not remember asking you a goddamn thing." Jet said to Julius. "You were saying?"   
"It is under the bed." Domino said. Spike Spiegel moves to the bed, reaches underneath it, pulling out a black snap briefcase. He flips the two locks, opening the case. Spike then just stares at it, transfixed.   
"We happy? Hey, Spike! We Happy?" Jet said. Spike looks up at Jet and closes the case.   
"We are happy." he said.   
"Look, what is your name? I got his name. he is Spike, but what is yours?" Witney asked.   
"My name is Black, and your ass is not talking your way out of this shit." Jet said.   
"I just want you to know how sorry we are about how fucked up things got between us and Mr. Vicious. When we entered into this thing, we only had the best intentions --" As Witney talks, Jet takes out his gun and shoots Domino three times in the chest, blowing him out of his chair. Spike smiles to himself. Jet has got style. Witney has just shit his pants. He is not crying or whimpering, but he is so full of fear, it ss as if his body is imploding.   
"Oh, I am sorry. Did I break your concentration? I did not mean to do that. Please, continue. I believe you were saying something about "best intentions." Jet said. But Witney could not say a word. "What is the matter? Oh, you were finished? Well, allow me to retort. Would you describe to me what Marsellus Vicious looks like?" Jet said. But Witney still cannot speak. Jet Black snaps, savagely tipping the card table over, removing the only barrier between himself and Witney Hagas Matsumoto. Witney now sits in a lone chair before Jet like a political prisoner in front of an interrorgator. "What planet you from!"   
"What?" Witney said petrified.   
"'What' is not no planet I ever heard of! Do they speak English in 'What?'" Jet said.   
"What?" Witney said near heart attack.   
"English motherfucker! Do you speak it?"   
"Yes."   
"Then you know what i am saying! Now describe what Marsellus Vicious looks like!" Jet said.   
"What?" Witney said out of fear as Jet Black takes his .45 and presses the barrel hard in Witney's cheek.   
"Say "What" again! Come on, say "What" again! I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker, say "What" one more goddamn time!" He said as Witney does his best.   
"Well he is ...he is...white --"   
"-- go on!"   
"...and he is...he is...got white hair --"   
"-- does he look like a bitch?!"   
"What?" Witney said without thinking. Jet's eyes go to Spike, Spike smirks, Jet rolls his eyes and shoots Witney in the shoulder. Witney screams, breaking into a shaking/trembling spasm in the chair.   
"Does he look like a bitch?!" Jet said.   
"No!" Witney said in agony.   
"Then why did you try to fuck him like a bitch, Witney?!" Jet said.   
"I did not." Witney said in spasm.   
"Yes you did. Yes you did, Witney. You tried to fuck him. And Marsellus Vicious doesn't like to be fuck by anybody except Faye Valentine. You read the bible, Witney?" Jet said.   
"Yes!" Witney said in agony.  
"There is a passage I got memorized seems appropriate for this situation: Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequites of the selfish and tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Black Dog when I lay my vengeance upon you.'" The two hitmen empty their guns at the same time on the sitting Witney. When they are finished, the bullet-ridden carcass just sits there for a moment, then topples over. All is quiet. The only sound is Julius muttering in the corner.   
"...goddamn...goddamn...that was fucked up...goddamn, that was cold-blooded..."   
"Friend of yours, Jet?" Spike said, while pointing to the transvestite Julius.   
"Yeah, Julius-Spike-Spike-Julius." Jet answered.   
"Tell him to shut up, he is getting on my nerves." Spike said.   
"Julius, I would knock that shit off if I was you." Jet said. Then suddenly the bathroom door bursts open, and a fourth man (as old as the rest) comes charging out, a silver magnum in his hand.   
"Die, you motherfuckers, die!" The fourth man fires six booming shots from his hand cannon in the direction of Spike Spiegel and Jet Black. He screams a maniacal cry of revenge until he is dry firing. Then his face does a complete change of expression. It goes from a "Vengeance is mine" expression, to a "What the fuck" blank look.   
"I do not fucking understand --" The fourth man is blown off his feet and knocked out by bullets that tear him to shreds. 


	3. Spike Spiegel And Marsellus Vicious' Wif...

Chapter One: Spike Spiegel And Marsellus Vicious' Wife  
  
Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV, a young, 25-year old tomboyish prizefighter, also known as Radical Edward. Ed sits at a table wearing a black leather jacket. talking to him is everybodys boss Marsellus Vicious. The mob boss sounds like a cross between a gangster and a king.  
  
"I think you are gonna find -- when all this shit is over and done -- I think you are gonna find yourself one smartmouth motherfucker. Thing is Edward, right now you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability do not last. Now that is a hard motherfucking fact of life, but it is a fact of life your ass is gonna have to get realistic about. This business is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers who think their asses aged forever. Besides, even if you went all the way, what would be? Hacker-weight champion of the world. Who gives a shit? I doubt you can even hack a bank based on that." Vicious said as he lays an envelope full of woolong on the table in front of Edward. Edward picks it up. "Now the night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting, that's hacking pride fucking with you. Fuck hacking! Hacking only hurts peoples computers, it never helps. Fight through this shit. Because a year from now, when you are kicking it in the Caribbean you are gonna say, 'Marsellus Vicious was right.'"   
"I got no problem with that, Mr. Vicious." Edward said.   
"On the 17th of march, your ass goes down." Edward nods his head: "yes."   
"Say it!"   
"On the 17th of march, my ass goes down.  
  
Spike Spiegel looks really cool behind the wheel of the Bebop. From the car radio, "Midnight Blue" by Megumi Hayashibara plays. Spike's fishship whips into the near empty parking lot and parks next to a old convertible. Spike knocks on the door. The front entrance is unlocked, revealing the Dapper Dan fellow on the inside: English Antonio. Antonio is not really english, he is an old man from the gates, who has ran a few clubs for Marsellus Vicious.   
"Spike Spiegel, our man in Mars, get your ass on in here." Spike, carrying the black briefcase from the prologue between Spike Spiegel and Jet Black, steps inside. English Antonio slams the door.  
  
The spacious club is empty this time of day. English Antonio crosses to the bar, and Spike follows.   
"Where is Marsellus Vicious?" he asked.   
"He is over there, finishing up some business with the prizefighter, Radical Edward." Antonio answered. Edward shakes hands with a huge figure with his back to the wall. The huge figure is the infamous and as of yet still unseen Marsellus Vicious.   
"Hand back for a second or two, and when you see the tomboy leave, go on over. In the meanwhile, can I make you a bloody mary?" Antonio said.   
"How about a cup of just plain old red wine?" Spike said.   
"Coming up. I hear you are taking Faye Valentine out tomorrow?"   
"At Marsellus Vicious' request." Spike said.   
"Have you met Faye?" Antonio said.   
"Not yet." Spike said as English Antonio smiles to himself.   
"What is so funny?" he asked.   
"Not a goddamn fucking thing." Antonio answered.   
"Look, I am not a idiot. She is the big man's fucking wife. I am gonna sit across a table, chew my food with my mouth closed, laugh at her jokes and that is all I am gonna do." Spike said as English Antonio puts Spike's wine in front of him.   
"My name is Antwan, and this shit is between you all." He said as Edward bellies up to the bar next to Spike, drinking his cup of red wine.   
"Can I get a pack of cigars?" Edward said to English Antonio.   
"Filters?"   
"None." Edward said while waiting for the cigars, Spike just sips his wine, staring at him. Edward looks over at him. "Looking at something, friend?" Edward said.   
"I am not your friend, palooka." Spike said while Edward does a slow burn toward him.   
"What was that?"   
"I think you heard me just fine, hacky."   
"Spike Spiegel has entered the building. My man, get your ass over here!" Marsellus Vicious said. Spike walks out of his seat, never giving Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV another glance. Edward is now left alone, looking like he is ready to go into the manners-teaching business. Spike, shaking hands with the obscured figure that is Marsellus Vicious. Edward makes the wise decision that is this asshole is a friend of Marsellus Vicious, he decides to let it go -- for now.   
"Pack of cigars, $13.40" English Antonio said. Edward is snapped out of his ass-kicking thoughts. He pays English Antonio and leaves.  
  
A woman who appears to have a fondness for earrings. Both of her ears are pierced five time. She also sports rings in her lips, eyebrows and nose.   
"...I will lend it to you. It is a great book on body piercing." Julia, Spike and a young woman named Judy sit at the kitchen table of a suburban house in Venus. Even though Spike is at the same table, he's not included in the conversation. "You know how they use that gun when they pierce your ears? They do not use that when they pierce your tits, do they? Judy said.   
"Fuck the gun. That gun goes against the entire fucking area behind piercing. All of my piercing, sixteen places on my body, every one of them, everyone of them done with a surgery needle. Five in each ear. One through the tit on my left breast. One through my right nostril. One through my left eyebrow. One through my lip. One in my clit. And I wear a stud in my tongue." Julia said. Spike has been letting this conversation go through one ear and out the other, until the last remark.   
"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I am curious, why would you get a stud in your tongue?" Spike said interruptly. Julia looks at him and says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.   
"It is a sexuality thing. It helps fellatio." Julia said. That thought never occured to Spike, but he cannot deny it makes sense. Julia continues talking to Judy, leaving Spike to ponder the truth of her statement.  
  
Carlos, late-40's, is a old man with a wild and woolly appearance that goes hand-in-hand with his wild and woolly personality. Carlos has been selling drugs his entire adult life. He has never had a day job, never filed a tax return and has never been arrested. He wears a red dresscoat with a bowtie. Three bags of heroin lie on Carlos' bed. Carlos and Spike stand at the foot of the bed.   
"Now this is Panda, from Jupiter. Very good stuff. This is Bava, different, but equally good. And this is Choco from the Hartz Mountains of Mars. Now the first two are the same, forty-five an ounce -- those are friend prices -- but this one..." he pointed to the Choco. "...this one is a little more expensive. It is fifty-five hundred woolong. But when you shoot it, you will know where that extra money went. Nothing wrong with the first two. It is real, real, real, fucking shit. But this one is a damn madman." Carlos said.   
"Remember, I just got back from Mars." Spike said.   
"Am I a bitch? Are you in Jupiter? No. You are in my house. Young men who know the difference between good shit and bad shit, this is the house they come to. My shit, I will take the Wine challenge with that Mars shit any old day of the goddamn week."   
"That is a bold statement."   
"This is not Mars, Spike. This is a seller's market. Beer is fucking dead as the gates are almost. Heroin is coming back in a big fucking way. It is this whole eighties retro. Bell bottoms, heroin, they are as hot as fuck." Carlos said as Spike takes out a roll of money that would choke a gopher to death.   
"Give me three hundred worth of the fucking madman. If it is as good as you say, I will be back for a thousand worth." He said.   
"I just hope I still have it. What do you think of Judy? She has not got a boyfriend ever since she quitted Big Shot, wanna hang out and get high?" Carlos said.   
"Which one is Judy? The one with all the shit on her face?" Spike said.   
"No, that is Julia. That is my wife"   
"I am on my way somewhere. I got a dinner engagement. Rain check?"   
"No problem?" Carlos said as Spike takes out his case of the works.(utensils for shooting up.)   
"You do not mind if I shoot up here?" Spike said.   
"Me casa, su casa." Carlos said in espanol.   
"Mucho gracias." Spike takes his works out of his case and, as the two continue to talk, Spike shoots up. "Still got your swordfish?" Carlos asked.  
"You know what some fucker did to it the other day?"  
"What?"  
"Fucking keyed it."  
"Oh man, that is fucked up."  
"Tell me about it. I had the goddamn thing in storage for ten years. It is out nine fucking days -- nine days and some dickless piece of shit fucks with it."  
"They should be fucking killed. No trial, no jury, straight to execution." Carlos said as he cooks his heroin.  
"I just wish I caught him doing it, you know? Oh, man I would give anything to catch him doing it. It would of been worth his doing, if I could just catch him, you know what I mean?"  
"It is chicken shit. You do not fuck with another man's vehicle." Carlos said as the stabs the needle into Spike's vein. The blood spurting back into the syringe, mixing with the heroin while Spike pushes his thumb down on the plunger.  
  
Spike walks up to the driveway leading to Marsellus Vicious' front door. When he gets to the door, he hears music on the other side, and a note in plain view taped to it. He rips it off.  
  
"Hi Spike,  
I am getting dressed. The door's  
open. Come inside and make   
yourself a drink. - Faye Valentine."  
  
Spike neatly folds the note up, sticks it in his pocket, takes a here-goes-nothing breath and turns the knob.  
  
As Spike steps inside, the music that was behind the door, swells drastically. Spike, hands in pockets, strolls inside, checking out his boss Marsellus Vicious' home.   
"Hello! I am here!" Spike yelled out as he hears a door open, Spike turns in its direction. He is now inside the room where "The Unforgiven II" by Metallica is playing. Faye Valentine, naked, wrapped in a towel, talks to Spike through a crack in the door. The door shields the front of her body from Spike.   
"Spike Spiegel?" she said.   
"I am Spike, you Faye?" Spike said.   
"That is me, pleased to meet you. I am still getting dressed. To your left, past the kitchen, is a bar. Go make yourself a drink, have a seat in the living room, and I will be out within three shakes of a lamb's tail." Faye said as she closes the door. Before she can fully turn around. Spike still standing where he was, "The Unforgiven II continues beating, looking at the closed door. He contemplates what is on the other side of the door. He walks out, breaking the spell. Spike walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. Faye Valentine's dress selection is taken out of the closet. Spike, drink in hand, moves into the living room. Faye, dresses in her beautiful black gown, with leather bluish gloves, checks herself in the mirror. Portrait of Faye hanging on the living room wall, showing Faye sensually reclining on a chair. Spike looks up at the portrait. Faye cutting a small line of coke on her vanity table with a credit card. Spike sits on a plush, comfy couch, drink in hand. The song abruptly cuts off. Faye comes in and takes the CD out as she walks out of the dressing room, through the dining room, through the kitchen and into the living room. Faye Valentine comes out with a camcorder and videotapes Spike on the couch. He looks up and sees her. "Smile, You are on Faye's camera!"  
"Ready to go?"  
"Not yet. I am going to interview you first. Are you any relation to Scott Spiegel?"  
"Yes, he is my brother."  
"Scott Spiegel, the make-up artist is your brother?  
"Scott Spiegel is my brother. If he is a make-up artist, I sure as hell did not know nothing about it. But then I have not been to too many christmas dinners lately."  
"Now I am gonna ask you a bunch of quick questions I have come up that more of less tell me what kind of person I am having dinner with. My theory is that when it comes to important subjects, there is only two ways a person can answer. For instance, there are two kinds of people in this world, Gundam people and Evangelion people. Now Gundam people can like Evangelion. And Evangelion can like Gundam. But nobody gives a damn about them both equally. Somewhere you have to make a choice. And that choice tells me who you are."  
"I can dig it."  
"I knew you could. First question, Berserk or Lodoss War?"  
"Berserk all the way, no comparison."  
"On "Char's Counterattack" who did you like, Char Aznable or Amuro Ray?"  
"Char Aznable, of course."  
"Are you a "Godsmack" man or a "KoRn" man?"  
""KoRn", all the way, though I always wonder how Jonathan Davis always does that creepy vocal voice in their songs."  
"If you were "Duo Maxwell" who would you fuck first, Hilde or Noin?"  
"Hilde. I never understood Noin attraction."  
"Have you ever fantasized about being beaten up by a girl?"  
"Sure."  
"Who?"  
"Lady Une from "Gundam Wing." that schizo who is always near Treize's side. and Julia."  
"Who is Julia?"  
"Girl from the past, you do not know her." Faye Valentine lowers the camcorder from in front of her face and gets a pretty good idea why Marsellus Vicious feels the way he does. She breaks out in a blinding smile. "Cut. Print. Let us go."  
  
In the past 20 years, 50's diners have sprung up all over Venus, giving Vietnamese restaurants a run for their money. They are all basically the same. Spike's swordfish pulls up to the restaurant. A big sign with a neon figure cartoon surly cool cat kitty in a red windreaker towers over the establishment. Underneath the cartoon is name: Cool kitty Slim's. Compared to the interior, the exterior was that of a quaint English pub. Posters from animes and mangas are all over the wall. Spike Spiegel and Faye Valentine study the menu in a booth made out of oak. Katerina, comes over. "Hi I am Katerina, what can I get you?" she said.   
"I will have the steak." Spike said.   
"How do you want it, burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?"   
"Bloody as hell. And to drink, a glass of wine."   
"How about you, Julie?"   
"I will have the Beef with Bell Peppers -extra rare -- and a five woolong shake" Faye said.   
"Did you just order a five-woolong shake?"   
"Sure did." She said.   
"A shake? Milk and ice cream?"   
"Uh-huh."   
"It costs five woolong?" Spike said.   
"Yes, sir." Katerina said.   
"You do not put bourbon in it or anything?"   
"No." she said.   
"Just checking." he said as Katerina exits. Spike takes a look around the place. The groupies are dancing, the diners are biting into their foods, and the anime and manga icons are playing their parts.   
"What do you think?" Faye asked Spike.   
"It is like a goddamn wax museum with a pulse rate." Spike said as he takes out his pouch of tobacco and begins rolling himself a cigarette. After a second of watching him --   
"What are you doing?" Faye asked.   
"Rolling a smoke." Spike answered.   
"Here?" She said.   
"It is just tobacco." Spike said.   
"Oh, well in that case, will you roll me one, cowboy?" Faye said as he finishes licking it --   
"You can have this one, cowgirl." Spike hands her the rolled smoke. she takes it, putting it to her lips. Out of nowhere appears a zippo lighter in Spike's hand. He lights it.   
"Thanks." Faye said.   
"Think nothing of it." Spike said as he begins rolling one for himself. Katerina comes back with the drinks. Faye wraps her lips around the straw of her shake.   
"Yummy!"   
"Can I have a sip of that? I would like to know what five-woolong shake tastes like." Spike said.   
"Be my guest." Faye said as she slides the shake over to him.   
"You can use my straw, I do not have termites."   
"Yeah, maybe I do." Spike said as he takes a sip. "Goddamn! That is a pretty fucking good milk shake." He said.   
"Told you."   
"I do not know if it is worth five-woolong, but it is pretty fucking good." Spike said as he slides the shake back. Then the first of an uncomfortable silence happens.   
"Do you not hate that?" Faye said.   
"Hate what?"   
"Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it is necessary to talk about bullshit this and bullshit that in order to be comfortable?" She said.   
"I do not know."   
"That is when you know you found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for ten minutes, and comfortably share silence."   
"I do not think we are there yet. But do not feel bad, we just met each other." Spike said.   
"Well I will tell you what, I will go to the bathroom and powder my nose, while you sit here and think of something to say." Faye said.   
"I will do that." Spike said as Faye heads for the ladies room. Faye powders her nose by doing a big line of coke off the bathroom sink. Her head jerks up from the rush. "I said goddamn!" Faye yelled.  
  
Back in Cool Kitty Slim's Dining Area, Spike digs into his steak. As he chews, his eyes scan the Hellsapopinish restuarant. Faye comes back to the table. "Do you not love it when you go to the bathroom and you come back to find your food waiting for you?" Faye said.   
"We are lucky we got it at all. Katerina seems to be much of a waitress." Spike said.   
"Pretty smart." Faye said.   
"I have moments."   
"Did you think of something to say?"   
"Actually, there is something I have wanted to ask you about, but you seem like a nice person, and I did not want to offend you." Spike said.   
"Oooohhhh, this does not sound like mindless, boring, getting-to-know-you bullshit. This sounds like you actually have something to say." Faye said.   
"Only if you promise not to get offended."   
"You cannot promise something like that. I have no idea what you are gonna ask. You could ask me what you are gonna ask me, and my natural response could be to be offended. Then, through no fault of my own, I would of broken my promise." She said.   
"Then let us just forget it." Spike said.   
"That is an impossibility. Trying to forget anything as intriguing as this would be an exercise in futility." Faye said.   
"Is that a fact?" Spike asked as Faye nods her head: "Yes"   
"Besides, it is more exciting when you do not have permission."   
"What do you think about what happened to Hakim?" Spike asked.   
"Who is Hakim?"   
"Abdul Shady." Spike answered.   
"He fell out of a window."   
"That one way to say it. Another way is, he was thrown out. Another was is, he was thrown out by Vicious. And even another way is, he was thrown out of a window by Marsellus Vicious because of you." Spike said.   
"Is that a fact?" Faye asked.   
"No it is not, it is just what I heard."   
"Who told you this?" She said.   
"They." Spike answered as he and Faye smiled.   
"They talk a lot, do they not?" Faye said.   
"They certainly do."   
"Well do not be shy Spike, what exactly did they say?" Faye said. Spike Spiegel was slow to answer.   
"Let me help you Bashful, did it involve the S-word?" She said.   
"No. They said Abdul Shady gave you a breast massage." Spike finally answered.   
"And...?"   
"No and, that is it." He said.   
"You heard Marsellus Vicious threw Abdul Shady out of a nine-story window because he massaged my breasts?" Faye said.   
"Yes." Spike said.   
"And you believed that?" She asked.   
"At that time I was told, it seemed reasonable." he answered.   
"Marsellus Vicious throwing Abdul out of a nine-story window for giving me a breast massage seemed reasonable?" she said.   
"No it seemed excessive. But that does not mean it did not happen. I heard Vicious is very protective of you." Faye said.   
"But did it happen?" Spike asked.   
"The only thing Abdul Hakim ever touched of mine was my hand, when he shook it. I met Hakim once -- at my wedding -- then never again. The truth is, nobody knows why Vicious tossed Abdul Shady out of that window except Marsellus Vicious and Abdul Shady. But when you punks get together, you are worse then a sewing circle." Faye said.   
"Are you mad?"   
"Not at all. Being the subject of back-door gossip goes with the right, I guess." Faye takes a sip of her five-woolong shake, and says: "Thanks."   
"What for?"   
"Asking my side." Faye said at that moment, Two-Mix's - "White Reflection" about to begin from the jukebox.   
"I wanna dance." She said.   
"I am not much of a dancer, Faye." Spike said.   
"Now I am the one getting gyped. I do believe Marsellus Vicious, my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted. Well, now I want to dance." Faye said. Spike smiles and begins taking off his boots. Faye triumphantly casts hers off. He takes her hand, escorting her to the dance floor. The two face each other for that brief moment before you begin to dance, then they both break into a devilish twist. Faye's version of the twist is that of sexy cat. Spike is pure Mister Cool as he gets into a hip-swivelling rhythm that would make Jet Black proud. The other dancers on the floor are trying to do the same thing, but Spike Spiegel and Faye Valentine seem to be strangely shaking their asses in sync. The two definitely share a rhythm and share smiles as they sing along with the last verse of Two-Mix's "White Reflection." 


	4. Spike Spiegel And Marsellus Vicious' Wif...

The front door flings open, and Faye Valentine and Spike Spiegel dance tango-style into the house, singing a cappella the song from the diner. They finish their little dance, laughing then... The two just stand face to face looking at each other.   
"Was that an uncomfortable silence?" He said.   
"I do not know what that was." Faye paused and continued.   
"Music and Drinks!" Faye Valentine moves away to attend to both. Spike hangs up his overcoat on a big golden coat rack in the alcove.   
"I am gonna take a piss." he said.   
"That was a little bit more information than I needed to know, but go right ahead." Faye said as Spike shuffles off to the john. Faye moves to her CD player, thumbs through a stack of CDs and selects one. The speakers blast out playing "Voodoo" by Godsmack Which Faye lipsyncs to. She dances her way around the room and finds herself by Spike's overcoat hanging on the rack. She touches its sleeve. It feels good. Her hand hoes in it's pocket and pulls out his tobacco pouch. Like a young girl playing bandit, she spreads the tobacco on some rolling paper. Imitating what he did earlier, licks the paper and rolls it into a pretty good cigarette. Maybe a little too big, but not bad for a first try. Faye thinks so anyway. Her hand reaches back in the pocket and pulls out his Zippo lighter. She slaps the lighter against her leg, trying to light it fancy-style like Spike did. She triumphantly brings the fat flame up to her cigarette, lighting it up, then loudly snaps the Zippo closed. The Faye-made cigarette is brought up to her lips, and she takes a long, cool drag. Her hand slides the Zippo back in the overcoat pocket. But wait, her fingers touch something else. she picks up a plastic bag with white powder inside, the madman that Spike Spiegel bought earlier from Carlos. Wearing a big smile, Faye brings the bag of heroin up to her face.   
"Spike, you little cola coot, you have been holding out on me." She said  
  
Spike stands at the sink, washing his hands, talking to himself in the mirror. "One drink and leave. Do not be rude, but drink your drink quickly, say goodbye, walk out the door, get in your car, and go down the road."  
  
Faye Valentine has the unbeknownst-to-her heroin cut up into big lines on her glass top coffee table. Taking her trusty hundred dollar bill like a human Dust-Buster, she quickly snorts the big line. Her head jerks back. Her hands go to her nose, which she feeks like it's on fucking fire, something is terribly wrong. Then...the rush hits...  
  
Spike Spiegel dries his hands on a towel while he continues talking to himself with the mirror. "...it is a moral test of yourself, whether or not you can maintain loyalty. Because when people are loyal to each other, that is very meaningful."  
  
Faye is on all fours trying to crawl to the bathroom, but it is like she is trying to crawl with the bones removed from her knees. Blood begins to drip from Faye's nose. Then her stomach gets into the act and she vomits.  
  
"So you are gonna go out there, drink your drink, say "Goodbye, I have had a very lovely evening." go home, and jerk off. And that is all you are gonna do." Now that he is given himself a little pep talk, Spike's ready for whatever is waiting for him on the other side of that door.  
  
Spike Spiegel walks out of the bathroom doors and into the living room, where he finds Faye Valentine lying on the floor like a rag doll. She is twisted on her back. Blood and puke are down her front. And her face is contorted. Not out of the tightness of pain, but just the opposite, the muscles in her face are so relaxed, she lies still with her mouth wide open. Slackjawed. "Jesus Fucking Christ!" Spike moves like greased lightning to Faye's fallen body. Bending down where she lays, he puts his fingers on her neck to check her pulse. She slightly stirs. Faye is aware of Spike over her, speaking to her. "Faye! Faye! What the hell happened?" Spike shouted. But she is unable to communicate. Faye makes a few lost mumbles, but they are not distinctive enough to be called words. Spike props her eyelids open and sees the problem. "I will be a son of a fucking bitch. Faye! Faye! What did you take? Answer me Faye, what did you take?" Spike said. Faye is incapable of answering. He slaps her face hard. Spike springs up and runs to his overcoat, hanging on the rack. He goes through the pockets frantically. It's gone. Spike Spiegel makes a beeline to Faye. "Okay Faye, we are getting you on your feet." He reaches her and hoists the dead weight up in his arms. "We are on our feet now, and now we are gonna talk out to the car. Fuck me! Fuck me!" Spike said as he hurriedly walks the practically-unconscious Faye through the house and out the front door.  
  
Spike Spiegel driving like a madman in a town without traffic laws, speeds the car into turns and up and over hills. "Do not fucking die on me, Faye!" Spike, one hand firmly on the wheel, the other shifting like the hellraiser of the roads, both eyes staring straight ahead excerpt when he glances over at Faye. Faye Valentine, slack-jawed expression, mouth gaping, posture of a bag of water. Spike takes a celluar phone out of his pocket and punches the number. "Fuck you, Carlos!." he said.  
  
At this late hour, Carlos has transformed from a bon vivant drug dealer to a bathrobe creature. He sits in a big comfy chair, ratty blue gym pants, a worn-out but comfortable t-shirt that has, written on it, "Screw You!" and a moth-ridden terry cloth robe. In his hand is a bowl of cereal. In the front of him on the coffee table is a jug of milk, the box of cereal came out of, and a hash pipe in an ashtray. On the TV in front of the table is Hello Kitty, and the male and female kitty are getting married. "Hold hands, you love birds." The preacher says as the phone rings. Carlos puts down his cereal and makes his way to the phone. It rings again. Judy, calls from the bedroom, obviously woken up.   
"Carlos! The phone is ringing!" She shouted.   
"I can hear it!" Carlos said.   
"I thought you told those fucking assholes never to call this late!" Judy said.   
"I told them and that is what I am gonna tell this fucking asshole right now!" Carlos answers the phone.   
"Hello, do you know how fucking late it is? You are not supposed to be calling this fucking late."  
  
Spike Spiegel is still driving like a stripe-assed hooligan, clutching the phone to his ear. "Carlos, this is Spike, I am in big fucking trouble man, I am on my way to your place." Spike said.   
"Whoa, hold your horses man, what is the problem?" Carlos said.   
"You still got an adrenalin shot?" he said.   
"Maybe." Carlos dawned on him.   
"I need it man, I got a chick she is fucking O.D.ing on me." Spike said.   
"Do not bring her here! I am not even fucking joking with you, do not you be bringing some fucked up pooh-ass to my house!" Carlos shouted.   
"Negative." Spike said.   
"She is O.D.ing?" Carlos asked.   
"Yes, she is fucking dying on me." Spike yelled.   
"Then bite the fucking bullet, take her to a goddamn hospital and call a lawyer to sue!" Carlos explained.   
"Negative." Spike answered.   
"She is not my fucking problem, you fucked her up, you deal with it --" Carlos stopped for a moment and thoughted of something. "Are you talking to me on a celluar phone?" he asked.   
"Sorry." Spike answered.   
"I do not know you, who is this, do not come here, I am hanging up. Prank caller, prank fucking caller." he shouted.   
"Too late, I am already here." Spike said as he hangs up on Carlos said. At that moment inside his home, he hears Spike's swordfish coming up the street. Carlos hangs up the phone, goes to his curtains and yanks the cord. The curtains open with whoosh in time to see Spike's Swordfish driving up on his front lawn and crashing into his house. The window Spike is looking out of shatters from the impact.   
"What the hell was that?" Judy shouted. Carlos charges from the window, out the door to his front lawn. Spike is already out of the car, working on getting Faye Valentine out.   
"Have you lost your fucking mind?! You crashed your car in my fucking house! You talk about drug shit on a celluar fucking phone --"   
"If you are through having your little hissy fit, this chick is dying, get your needle and get it now!" Spike interrupted.   
"Are you deaf? You are not bringing that fucked up bitch in my house!" Carlos yelled.   
"This fucked up bitch is Marsellus Vicious' wife. Now if she fucking croaks on me, I am a goddamn grease spot. But before he turns me into a bar of soap, I am gonna be forced to tell him about how you could of saved her life, but instead you let her die on your front lawn." Spike explained.  
  
Judy in bed, throws off the covers and stands up. She is wearing a long-sleeved night gown. She opens the door, walking through the halls into the living room.   
"It is one-thirty in the goddamn morning! What the fuck is going on out here?" Judy yelled as she walks in the living room, she sees Spike and Carlos standing over Faye, who is lying on the floor in the middle of the room. From here on in, everything is frantic, like a documentary in an emergency ward, with the big difference here being nobody knows what the fuck they are doing.   
"Who is she?" Judy said as Carlos looks up at her.   
"Get that black box in the bedroom I have with the adrenalin shot." Carlos said.   
"What is wrong with her?" She asked him.   
"Well get her the hell out of here!" Judy answered.   
"Get the fucking shot!" Spike and Carlos said.   
"Do not yell at me!" Judy angerily turns and disappears into the bedroom looking for the shot.   
"You two are a match made in heaven." Spike said to Carlos.   
"Look, just keep talking to her, okay? While she is getting the shot, I gotta get a medical book." Carlos explained.   
"What the hell do you need a medical book for?" Spike asked.   
"To tell me how to do it. I have never given an adrenalin shot before." Carlos answered.   
"You have had that thing for six fucking years and you never used it?" Spike said.   
"I never had to use it. I do not go joy-popping with bubble-gummers, all of my goddamn friends can handle their highs!" Carlos said   
"Well then get it." Spike said.   
"I am, if you will let me." Carlos argued.   
"I am not fucking stopping you." Spike argued back.   
"Stop talking to me and start talking to her." Carlos said as he runs out of the living room into a spare room with a bunch of junk in it. He frantically starts scanning the junk for the medical book he is looking for, repeating the words, "Come on." endlessly.   
"Hurry up man! We are losing her!" Spike yelled out.   
"I am looking as fast as I can!" Carlos yelled back as continues his frenzied search.   
"What is he looking for?" Judy said.   
"I don't know, some medical book." Spike answered.   
"What are you looking for?" Judy yelled to Carlos.   
"My black medical book!" Carlos answered as he continues searching, flipping and knocking over shit, Judy appears in the doorway.   
"What are you looking for?"   
"My black fucking medical book. It is like a text book they give to nurses." Carlos explained.   
"I never saw a medical book." Judy said.   
"Trust me, I have one." he said.   
"Well, it it is that important, why did you not keep it with the shot?" Judy said as Carlos spins towards her.   
"I do not know! Stop fucking bothering me!"   
"While you are looking for it, that girl is gonna fucking die on our carpet. You are never gonna find it in all this shit. For six months now, I have been telling you to clean this room --" Judy yelled out.   
"-- get your ass in here, fuck the medical book!" Spike yelled out. Carlos angerly knocks over a pile of shit and leaves the shot heading for the living room. Spike is bent over Faye Valentine, talking softly to her, when Carlos reenters the room.   
"Quit fucking around man and give her the shot!" Spike said as Carlos bends down by the black case brought in by Judy. He opens it and begins preparing the needle for injection.   
"While I am doing this, take her gown off and find her heart." Carlos said as Spike takes the gown off. Judy stumbles back in the room, hanging back from the action.   
"Does it have to be exact?" Spike asked.   
"Yes, it has to be exact! I am giving her an injection in the heart, so I gotta exactly hit her in the heart." Carlos said. "Well, I do not know exactly where her heart is, I think it is here." Spike said as he points to Faye right breast. Carlos glances over and nods.   
"That is it." Carlos readies the injection, while Spike looks up at Judy.   
"I need a big fat magic marker, got one?" Spike asked her.   
"What?" Judy said.   
"I need a big fat magic marker, any felt pen will do, but a magic marker would be great." Spike explained.   
"Hold on." Judy said as she runs to the desk, opens the top drawer and, in her enthusiasm, she pulls the drawer out of the desk, the contents of which (bills, papers, pens) spill to the floor. The injection is ready. Carlos hands the needle to Spike.   
"It is ready, I will tell you what to do." Carlos said.   
"You are gonna give her the shot." Spike said.   
"No, you are gonna give her the fucking shot." Carlos said.   
"I have never done this before." Spike said.   
"I have never done this before either, and I am not starting now. You brought her here, that means you give her the shot. The day I bring an O.D.ing bitch to your place, then I gotta give her the shot." Carlos said as Judy hurriedly joins them in the huddle, a big fat red magic marker in her hand.   
"Got it." Spike grabs the magic marker out of Judy's hand and makes a big red dot in Faye's body where her heart is. "Okay, What do I do?" Spike asked.   
"Well, you are giving her an injection of adrenalism straight to her heart. But she has got a breast plate in front of her heart, so you gotta piece through that. So what you gotta do is bring the needle down in a stabbing motion." Carlos said as he demonstrates a stabbing motion, which looks like a serial killer's shape.   
"I gotta stab her?" Spike asked.   
"If you want the needle to pierce through to her heart, you gotta stab her hard. Then once you do, push down on the plunger." Carlos said.   
"What happens after that?" Spike said.   
"I am curious about that myself." Carlos answered.   
"This is not a motherfucking joke goddamn it!" Spike yelled.   
"She is supposed to come out of it like -- that." Carlos said while snapping his fingers. Spike lifts the needle up above his head in a stabbing motion. He looks down on Faye. Faye is fading fast. Soon nothing will help her. Spike's eyes narrow, ready to do this.   
"Count to three." He said. Carlos, on his knees right beside Spike, does not know what to expect.   
"One..." Red dot on Faye's body. Needle ready to strike. "...two..." Judy's face is alive with anticipation. Needle in that air, poised like a rattler ready to strike. "...three!" Carlos yelled. The needle thrusts down hard. Spike brings down the needle hard, stabbing Faye in the chest. Faye Valentine's head if jolted from the impact. The syringe plunger is pushed down, pumping the adrenalin out through the needle. Faye's eyes pop wide open and she lets out a hellish cry of the banshee. She bolts up in a sitting position, needle stuck in her chest -- screaming. Spike, Carlos and Judy, who were in sitting positions in front of Faye, jump back, scared to death. Faye's scream runs out. She slowly starts taking breaths of air. The other three, now scooted halfway across the room, shaken to their bones, look to see if she is alright.   
"If you are okay, say something." Carlos said. Faye, still breathing, not looking up at them, says in a relatively normal voice.   
"Something." Spike and Carlos collapse on their backs, exhausted and shaking from how close to death Faye Valentine came.   
"That was fucking tripping." Judy said.  
  
Spike is behind the wheel driving Faye Valentine home. No one says anything, both are still too shaken.  
  
The swordfish pulls up to the front. Faye gets out without saying a word (still in a daze) and begins walking down the walkway toward her front door. "Faye!" Spike said as she turns around. Spike is out of the car, standing on the walkway, a big distance between the two.   
"What are your thoughts on how to handle this?" He asked.   
"What is yours?" she asked.   
"Well I am of the opinion that Marsellus Vicious can live his whole life and never ever hear of this incident." Spike said.   
"Do not worry about it. If Marsellus Vicious ever heard of this, I would be in much trouble as you." Faye smiled.   
"I seriously doubt that." Spike said.   
"If you can keep a secret, so can I." Faye said.   
"Let us shake on it." Spike and Faye walk toward each other, holding out their hands to shake and shake they do. "Mum is the word." Spike said as Faye lets go of Spike's hand and silently makes the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, and speak no evil sign with her hands. Spike smiles.   
"If you will excuse me, I gotta go home and have a heart attack." He said. Faye giggles as Spike turns to leave.   
"See you around, Spike Spiegel." Faye said. After Faye walks inside. Spike continues to look where she was. He brings his hands to his lips and blows her a kiss. then exits to his swordfish.   
  
End of Spike Spiegel And Marsellus Vicious' Wife 


	5. The Golden Goggles Part 1

On the cartoon "Hamtaro" Laura is writing on her journal, which she does at the near end of every episode. "Edward." Edward's mother, 30ish, stands in the doorway leading into the living room. Next to her is a man dressed in the uniform of an Military officer.   
"Edward, stop watching TV for a second. We got a special visitor. Now do you remember when I told you your long lost father died in a P.O.W. camp?" Edward's mother said.   
"Yes." Young Edward said   
"Well this here is Captain Jobin Koons. He was in the P.O.W. camp with your father." Captain Jobin Koons steps inside the room toward the little tomboy and bends down on one knee to bring him even with the boy's eyeline. When Jobin Koons speaks, he speaks with a pure american accent.  
"Hello, little girl. Boy I sure heard a bunch about you. See I was a good friend of your father's. We were in that Afganian pit of hell over 7 years together. Hopefully, you will never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your father were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Tivrusky would be talking to my son John. But the way it worked out is I am talking to you, Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV. I got something for you." Jobin Koons said as he pulls a pair of golden goggles out of his hat. "These goggles I got here was first purchased by your great-granddaddy. It was bought during the First World War on Earth in a little general store in Albany, New York. It was bought by Private Edward Tivrusky I the day he set sailed for Paris. They were your great-grandfather's war goggles, made by the first company to ever make war goggles. You see, up until then, people just carried night vision goggles in wars. Your great-grandfather wore these goggles every day he was in the war. Then when he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the goggles off his head and put them in an old coffee can. And in that can it stayed until your grandfather Edward Tivrusky II was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Nazis once again. This time they called it World War Two on Earth. Your great-grandfather gave it to your grandfather for good luck. Unfortunately, Edward Tivrusky II's luck was not as good as his old mans. Your grandfather was a Sargeant and he was killed with all the other soldiers at the battle of Wake Island. Your grandfather was facing death and he knew it. None of those boys had any illusions about ever leaving that island alive. So three days before the Nazis took the island, your 26-year old grandfather asked a gunner on an Air Force named Gordon, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he had never seen in the flesh, his gold goggles. Three days later, your grandfather was dead. But Gordon kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandfather, delivering to your infant father, his father's gold goggles. These goggles. These goggles were on your father's head when he was shot down over Afghanistan. He was captured and put in a Afghanian Prison Camp. Now he knew if he the bastards ever saw the goggles it is to be confiscated. The way your father looked at it, those goggles were your birthright. And he would be damned if any goddamn asshole were gonna put their fucking hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His ass. Five long years, he wore these goggles up his ass. Then when he died of disentary, he gave me the goggles. I hid with an uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV, I give the goggles to you." Captain Jobin Koons said as he hands the golden goggles to Edward.  
  
The 25-year old Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV is dressed in boxing regalia: trunks, shoes and gloves. He lies on a table, resting before his big fight. He wakes up with a start. Shaken by the bizaree memory, he wipes his sweaty face with his boxing glove. His trainer Grencia Mars Elijah Guo Eckner, opens the door a little, sticking his head in the room. Pandemonium seems to be breaking out behind Grencia in the hallway. "It is time, Radical Edward." He said.   
"I am ready." Edward said as Grencia steps inside, closing the door on the wild mob outside. He goes to the long yellow robe hanging on a hook. Edward hops off the table and, without a word, Grencia helps him on with the robe, which says on the back: "Radical Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV." The tomboy and her trainer head for the door. Grencia opens the door for Edward. As she steps into the hallway, the crowd goes apeshit. Grencia closes the door behind him.  
  
Chapter Two: "The Golden Goggles"  
  
"--well Victoria Terpsichore, that had to be the bloodiest and, hands-down, the most brutal fight this city has ever seen." The sportcaster said.  
  
A taxi is parked in a dark alley next to an auditorium. The sky is pissing down rain. The sound of the car radio is being heard from outside. "...Tivrusky was out of there faster then I have ever seen a victorious boxer vacate the ring. Do you think he knew Donelly was dead?" The sportscaster continued.   
"My guess would be yes, Lin. I could see from my position here, the frenzy in his eyes give way to the realization of what he was doing. I think any man would have left the ring that fast." Sportscaster VT said. Inside the taxi, behind the wheel, is a male cabbie named Gould Villalobos. A young man with a beautiful look, sits parked, drinking a steaming cup of tea out of a white styrofoam cup. The sportscasters continue their coverage on Dead Floyd Donelly Wilson. "Do you feel this ring death tragedy will have an effect on the world of boxing?" Sportscaster Lin said.   
"Oh Lin, a tragedy like this cannot help but shake the world of boxing to it is very foundation. But it is of paramount importance that during the sad weeks ahead, the eyes of the HBA remain fixed on the ---" Sportscaster VT said as Gould shuts off the radio. He takes a sip of coffee, then hears a noise behind him in the alleyway. He sticks his head out of the car door to see: A window about three stories high opens on the auditorium-side of the alley. A gym bag is tossed out into a garbage dumpster below the window. Then, Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV, still dressed in boxing trunks, shoes, gloves and yellow robe, leaps tothe dumpster below. Gould's reaction takes in the strangeness of the sight. Gym bag in hand, Edward climbs out of the dumpster and runs to the taxi. Before he climbs in, he takes off his robe and throws it to the ground. Edward, soaking wet, naked except for the trunks, shoes and gloves, hops in the backseat, slamming the door. Gould, staring straight ahead, talks to Edward through the rearview mirror. "Are you the person I was supposed to pick up?" Gould said in a Spanish accent.   
"If you are the cab I called, I am the person you are supposed to pick up." Edward answered.   
"Where to?" he asked.   
"The hell outta here." Edward answered as Gould twists the ignition key. The engine roars to life. The meter is flipped on. Gould's bare foot stomps on the gas pedal. The cab whips out of the alley, fish-tailing on the wet pavement in front of the auditorium at a rapid pace.  
  
Locker room door opens, English Antonio fights his way through the pandemonium which is going on outside in the hall, shutting the door on the madness. Once inside, English Antonio takes time to adjust his suit and tie. In the room, the bloody boxer Donelly Floyd Wilson lies on a table -- dead. His face looks like he was slaughter by daggers and swords. His trainer is on his knees, head on Donelly's chest, crying over the body. The huge figure that is Marsellus Vicious stands at the table, hand on the trainer's shoulder, lending emotional support. Faye Valentine sits in a chair at the far end of the room. Vicious looks up, sees English Antonio and walks over to him. "What do you got?" Vicious asked.   
"He booked." Antonio answered.   
"His trainer?" he asked again.   
"He says he does not know nothing. I believe him. Think Edward surprised his ass--."   
"We do not want to think, we want to know. Take him to the kennels, sic the wolves on her ass. We will find out for goddamn sure for what she knows and what she does not know." Vicious interrupted.   
"Radical Edward's search. How do you want it done?" English Antonio asked.   
"I am prepared to scour the galaxy for that motherfucker. If Edward goes to Tokyo, Japan, I want a Red Dragon member hiding in his bowl of noodles, ready to pop a cap in her ass." Marsellus Vicious said.   
"I will take care of it." English Antonio said.  
  
Edward gets one of her boxing gloves off. Gould watches in the rearview mirror. He tries to roll down one of the backseat windows, but cannot find the roll bar. "Hey, how do I open the window back here?" Edward asked.   
"I have to do it." Gould answered as he presses a bottom and the back window moves down. Edward tosses his boxing gloves out the window, then starts untying the other one. Gould cannot keep quiet anymore. "Hey, ma'm?"   
"Yes?" Edward said while still working on the glove.   
"You were in that fight? The fight on the radio -- you are the fighter?" Gould said as Edward tosses his other glove out the window.   
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Edward said.   
"No come on, you are her, I know you are her, tell me you are her." Gould said.   
"I am her." Edward said while drying himself with a gym towel.   
"You killed the other boxer." she said.   
"He is dead?" Edward asked.   
"The radio said he was dead." Gould answered as Edward finished wiping himself down, mumbling to herself.   
"Sorry about that, Donnelly." She tosses the towel out the window. Silence, as Edward digs in her bag for a sweat shirt. "What does it feel like?" Gould asked.   
"What does what feel like?" Edward asked after finding her shirt.   
"Killing a person. Beating another one to death with your bare hands." Gould answered as Edward pulls on her shirt. "Are you some kind of paranoid?" Edward said.   
"No, it is a subject I have much interest in. You are the first person I ever met who has killed somebody, so, what was it like to a person?" she answered.   
"Tell you what, you give me one of those cigars, I will give you an answer" Edward said as Gould bounces in his seat with excitement.   
"Deal!" Gould said as Edward leans forward. Gould, keeping his eyes on the road, passes a cigar back to her. She takes it. Then, still not looking behind her, she brings up her hand, a lit match in it. Edward lights her cigar, then blows out the match. She takes a long drag. "So..." She looks at his license. "...Gould Villalobos -- is that Mexican?" She asked.   
"That name is spanish, but I am american."   
"It is a very cute name." Edward said.   
"It means "Gould of the wolves." Gould said.   
"That is one hell of a name you got there, brother." Edward said.   
"Thank you. And what is your name?" Gould asked.   
"Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV, also known as Radical Edward." she answered.   
"Edward. What does it mean?" Gould asked.   
"I am a hacker, our names do not mean shit. Anyway, moving right along, what is it you wanna know, Gould?" Edward asked.   
"I want to know what it feels like to kill a person --" Gould said.   
"-- I could not tell you. I did not know he was dead until you told me he was dead. Now I know he is dead, do you wanna know how I feel about it?" Edward said as Gould nods his head: "yes."   
"Because I am a boxer. And after you have said that, you have said pretty much all there is to say about me. Now maybe that son of a bitch tonight was once at one time a boxer. If he was, then he was dead before his ass ever stepped in the ring. I just put the poor bastard out of his misery. And if he never was boxer --" Edward said while she takes a drag. "That is what Donnelly Floyd Wilson gets for fucking up my sport."  
  
Edward is now in phone booth talking to a unknown person on the phone inside. "What did I tell you, as soon as the world got out a fix was in, the odds would be out of control. Hey, if he was a better fighter he would be alive. If he never had laced up his gloves in the first place, which he never should of done, he would be alive. Enough about the poor unfortunate Mr. Donnelly Floyd Wilson, let us talk about the rich and prosperous Ms. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV. How many bookies you spread it around with?" Edward pauses "Eight? How long to collect?" she paused again. "So by tomorrow evening, you will have it all?" Edward paused once again. "Good news, Gordon, real good news -- I understand a few stragglers aside. Me and Wen are gonna leave in the morning. It should take us a couple days to get into Tokyo. Next time we see each other, it will be on Japan time." Edward hangs up the phone. He looks at the cab waiting to take him wherever he wants to go. "Wen my love, our adventure begins." He said in jap.  
  
Gould's tax pulled into the motel parking lot. The rain has stopped, but the night is still soaked. Edward gets out, now fully dressed in sweat shirt, jeans and leather jacket. He leans in the driver's side window. "Forty-five sixty." Gould as Edward hands her the woolong.   
"Merci beaucoup. And here is a little something for the effort." Edward said as she holds up a hundred woolong. Gould's eyes light up. He goes to take it. Edward holds it out of reach.   
"Now if anybody should ask you about who your fare was tonight, what are you gonna tell them?" Edward asked Gould. "The truth. Three well-dressed, slightly toasted, Japs." Gould answered as she gives her the bill.   
"Bon soir, Gould."   
"Sleep well, Edward." Gould said in espaniol. She tweaks her nose, she smiles, and she turns and walks away as Gould drives away.  
  
Edward enters and turns on the light. Lying curled up on the bed, fully dressed in pajamas, with his back turned is Edward's boyfriend, Wen. "Keep the light off." Wen said as Edward flicks the switch back, making the room dark again. "Is that better, sweetheart?" Edward asked.   
"Oui." he answered.   
"Hard day at the office?" Wen asked.   
"Pretty hard. I got into a fight." she answered.   
"Poor Edward. Can we make spoons?" Wen said as Edward climbs into bed, spooning Wen from behind.   
"I was looking at myself in the mirror." he said.   
"Uh-huh?"   
"I wish you had a pot." Wen said.   
"You were looking in the mirror and you wish I had some crack?" Edward asked.   
"A pot. A pot belly for you. they are beautiful." Wen said.   
"Well you should be happy, because you do." Edward said.   
"Shut up, retard! I do not have a pot! You have a bit of a tummy, like Megumi Hayshibara when she did "Don't Be Discouraged," it is not the same thing." Wen said.   
"I did not realize there was a difference between a tummy and a pot belly." Edward said.   
"The difference is huge." Wen said.   
"You want to have a pot?" she asked.   
"No. pot bellies make a man look either oafish, or like an ape. But on a woman like yourself, a pot belly is beautiful. The rest of myself is normal. Normal face, normal legs, normal hips. normal ass, but with a slim stomach. If you had one, you would wear a T-shirt two sizes small to accentuate it." Wen explained.   
"You think others guys would find that attractive?" she asked.   
"I do not give a damn what men find attractive. It is unfortunate what we find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye is seldom the same." Wen answered. "If I had a pot belly, you would punch me in it." Edward said.   
"I would you punch you in the belly?" he asked.   
"Right in the belly." she answered.   
"I would smother you. I would smother you. I would drop it in on your right on your face until you could not breathe." he said.   
"You would do that to me?" Edward asked.   
"Yes!" Wen answered.   
"Did you get everything, muffin?" Edward asked.   
"Yes, I did." he answered.   
"Good job."   
"Did everything go as planned."   
"You did not listen to the radio?" she asked.   
"I never listen to yours fights. Were you the winner?" Wen said.   
"I won alright." Edward answered.   
"Are you still retiring?" he asked.   
"I sure am." she answered.   
"What about the man you fought?" Wen asked.   
"Donnely retired too." Edward answered.   
"Really?! He will not be fighting no more?!" Wen asked.   
"Not no more." she answered.   
"So it all worked out in the finish?"   
"We are not at the finish, darling." Edward said as Wen rolls over and Edward gets on top of her. They kiss passionally. "We are in a lot of danger, are we not?" Wen asked as Edward nods her head: "yes."   
"If they find us, they will kill us, will they not?" Wen said as Edward nods her head: "yes" again.   
"But they will not find us, will they?" Wen said as Edward nods her head: "no."   
"Do you still want me to go with you?" Wen said as Edward nods her head: "yes" again.   
"I do not want to be a burden or a nuisance --" Edward interrupted her by massaging his back and Wen reacts.   
"Say it!"   
"Wen, I want you to be with me." Edward said.   
"Forever?" Wen asked.   
"...and ever." Edward answered as Wen lies his head back. Edward continues to massage his back.   
"Do you love me?" Wen asked.   
"Oui." Edward answered.   
"Edward? Can I give you an oral pleasure?" Wen asked as Edward kisses her on the mouth.   
"Will I kiss it?" Edward asked as he nods his head: "yes."   
"But you first." Wen said as Edward's head goes down to carry out the oral pleasure.   
"Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV my love, the adventure begins." Wen said in jap.  
  
Wen is now in a white silky cloth robe that seems to swallow him up. She is drying her head with a towel. Edward is inside the shower washing up. The outline of her naked body is seen through the smoky glass of the shower door. Steam fills the bathroom. Edward turns the shower off and opens the door, popping his head out. "I think I cracked a cheekbone." Edward said.  
"For giving me oral pleasure?" Wen said.  
"No dumbass, from the fight."  
"Do not call me dumbass." Wen argued as Edward teases him in a mongoloid voice.  
"My name is Wen! My name is Wen!"  
"Shut up fuck head! I hate that Mongoloid fucking voice."  
"Okay, sorry, sorry, sorry, I take it back! Can I have a towel please, My knight in shining armor."  
"Oh I like that, I like being called a knight. Knight is better than Mongoloid." Wen said as he finishes drying his hair and wraps the towel like a turban on his head. "I did not call you a mongoloid, I called you a dumbass, but I took it back." Edward said as Wen hands her a towel. "Merci beaucoup."  
"Edward?" Wen asked while drying her head.   
"Yes, handsome?"  
"Where are we going to go?"  
"I am not sure yet. Wherever you want. We are gonna get a lot of woolong from this. But it is not gonna be so much, we can live like kings in a castle forever. I was thinking we could go somewhere in the galaxy. The kind of woolong we will have will carry us a long down there."  
"So if we wanted, we could live in Saturn?"  
"You bet. And if after awhile you do not dig Saturn, then we can move over to either Venus or Earth."  
"But I do not speak Mexican."  
"You do not speak Venusian either. Besides, It is easy: Donde esta el zapataria?"  
"What does that mean?"  
"Where is the shoe store?"  
"Donde esta el zapataria?"  
"Excellent pronounciation. You will be my little knight in no time." Edward said as she exits the bathroom while Wen stays and brushes her teeth. "Que hora es?"  
"Que hora es?"  
"What time is it?"  
"What time is it?"  
"Time for bed. Sweet dreams, Wen." Edward said as Wen continues brushing his teeth. she stops for a moment or two and then remembers something. "Edward." He walks out of the bathroom to ask Edward a question, only to find her sound asleep in bed. Then he looks at her for a moment, sighing. "Forget it." 


	6. The Golden Goggles Part 2

Edward is still asleep in bed. Wen brushes his teeth half in and half out of the bathroom so he could watch TV at the same time. He wears a blue silky robe from the night before. On TV: The Gundam Pilots are on a chopper taking down an entire Vietnam OZ army. Edward wakes from his sleep, as if she was under attack by the mob. Her start startles Wen. "Edward! You startled me. Did you have a bad dream?" Wen asked as Edward squints down the front of the bed at him, trying to focus.   
"...yeah...are you still brushing your teeth?" Edward said.   
"This is me. I brush my teeth all night long and into the early morning. Do you think I have a problem?" Wen said as he goes back into the bathroom to spit. If that was supposed to be sarcasm, it was lost on Edward at this early hour. Edward, still trying to chase the cobwebs away, sees on TV the Gundam Pilots on choppers tear-assing through a Vietnamese Village.   
"What are you watching?" Edward asked.   
"A Vietnam War movie, I am not sure of the name." Wen answered.   
"Are you watching it?" Edward said as Wen enters the room.   
"In a way. Why? Would you like for me to switch it off?" Wen asked.   
"Would you please?" Edward answered as he reaches over and turns off the TV. "It is a little too early in the morning for explosions and war at Vietnam." Edward said.   
"What was it about?" Wen asked.   
"How should I know, you were the one watching it." Edward answered.   
"No, damn it, what was your dream about?" Wen laughed.   
"Oh, I...do not remember. It is really rare I remember a dream." Edward said.   
"You just woke up from it." Wen said.   
"Wen. I am not lying to you, I don't remember."   
"Well, let's look at the grumpy woman in the morning. I did not say you were lying, it is just odd you do not remember your dreams. I always remember mine. Did you know you talk in your sleep?"   
"I do not talk in my sleep, do I talk in my sleep?" Edward asked.   
"You did last night." Wen answered.   
"What did I say?" Edward said, Wen lays on top of him.   
"I do not know. I couldn't understand you." Wen said as he kisses Edward.   
"Why do you not get up and we will get some breakfast at that breakfast place with the pancakes."   
"One more kiss and I will get up." Edward said as Wen gives her a sweet long kiss.   
"Satisfied?" He asked.   
"Yep."   
"Then get up, Edward." Wen said as Edward climbs out of bed and starts pulling clothes out of the suitcase that Wen brought.   
"What time is it?" she asked.   
"Almost nine in the morning." Wen answered.   
"What time does our time arrive?"   
"Twelve." Edward answered while looking at a pair of pants.   
"Those pants are very nice. Can you wear those with that nice red shirt you have?" Wen said as she pulls a blue shirt out of the suitcase.   
"This one?"   
"That is the one. That matches."   
"Okay." Edward said as she gets dressed for the occasion.   
"I am gonna order a big plate of pancakes with maple syrup, eggs over easy, and five sausages." Wen said while Edward becomes surprised at Wen's potential appetite.   
"Anything to drink with that?" Edward asked while Wen was referring to her clothes.  
"Oh yes, that looks nice. To drink, a tall glass of orange juice and a black cup of hot cocoa. After that, I am going to have a slice of pie." Wen said as Edward goes through the suitcase.  
"Pie for breakfast?"  
"Any time of the day is a good time for pie. Cherry pie to go with the pancakes. And on top, two slices of french toast --"  
"--where are my goggles?" she asked.   
"It is there." Wen answered.   
"No, it is not. It is not here."   
"Have you looked?" Wen said as by now, Edward is frantically rummaging through the suitcase.   
"Yes I have fucking looked!!" Edward answered while now throwing her clothes. "What the fuck do you think I am doing?! Are you sure you got it?"   
Wen can hardly speak, she is never seen Edward this way. "Uhhh...yes...beside the desktop --"   
"-- on the laptop computer."   
"Yes, it was on your laptop computer." Wen said.   
"Well it is not here!" Edward said as Wen is close to be on the verge of tears.   
"Well it should be!"   
"Oh yes it most definitely should be here, but it is not. So where the fuck are they!?" Edward said. Wen is now crying and scared. Edward lowers her voice, which only serves to make her more menacing. "Wen, they were my father's fucking goggles. You know what my father went through to get me them goggles?...I do not wanna get into it right now...but he went through a lot. Now all this other fucking shit, you could of set on fire, but I specifically reminded you not to forget my father's goggles. Now think, did you get them?" Edward explained.   
"I believe so...." Wen answered.   
"You believe so? You either did, or you did not, now which one is it?" Edward shouted.   
"Then I did." Wen said.   
"Are you sure?" she asked.   
"No." Wen said shakingly.   
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Motherfucker! Fucking Dickhead!" Edward Tivrusky freaks out, she punches the air. Wen screams and backs into the corner, Edward picks up the motel TV and throws it against the wall. Wen screams in horror. Edward looks towards her, then suddenly calms down. "No! It is not your fault." Edward said as she approached to Wen.   
"You left it at the apartment." She bends down in front of her boyfriend who has sunk to the floor. She touches his hand, he flinches. "If you did leave it at the apartment, it is not your fault. I had you bring a bunch of stuff. I reminded you about it, but I did not illustrate how personal the goggles were to me. If all I gave a fuck about were my goggles, I should have told you. You are not a mind reader." She kisses his cheek. Then rises. Wen is still sniffling as Edward goes to her closet. "I am sorry." Wen said as Edward puts on her black leather jacket.   
"Do not be. It just means I will not be able to eat breakfast with you." She said.   
"Why does it mean that?" Wen asked.   
"Because I am going back to my apartment to get my goggles." she answered.   
"Will the Red Dragon Syndicate be looking for you there?" he asked.   
"That is what I am gonna find out. If they are, and I do not think I can handle it, I will split." Edward said while rising from the floor.   
"My darling Edward, I do not want you to be murdered over some silly golden goggles." Wen said.   
"One, they are not silly golden goggles. Two, I am not gonna be murdered. And three, do not be scared. I will not let anything get in the way of us living a happy life together." Edward said as she brings Wen close and puts her hands on his face.   
"Do not feel bad, Wen. Nothing you could ever do would make me permanently angry at you. I love you, remember?" Edward paused for a moment, looking at Wen and dug out some woolong out of her wallet. "Now here is some woolong, order those pancakes and have a great breakfast."   
"Please, do not go."   
"I will be back before you can say ---"   
"Cherry Pie." Wen interrupted.   
"Well maybe not that fast, but fast. I am gonna take your Chevrolet. Okay?" Edward said.   
"Okay." Wen said as Edward kisses him once more and heads for the door. And with that, she is out the door.  
  
Edward is beating the steering wheel and the dash with his fists as he drives down the street, with "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen playing on her radio. "Shit, of all the fucking things he could fucking forget, he forgets my father's goggles. I specifically reminded him not to fucking forget them. "Beside the desktop -- on the laptop computer." I said the words 'Do not forget my father's goggles.'" Edward said.  
  
The little Chevrolet races towards its destination as fast as its little engine will take it.  
  
"What the fuck am I doing? Have I taken one too many hits to the head? That has got to be it. Brain Damage is the only excuse for this dumb of a move. Stop the car, Edward." She kept on driving, paying no attention to herself. "Edward, I am talking to you. Put-your-foot-on-the-goddamn-break!" Edward's foot slams down hard on the break. The little Chevrolet skids to a stop in the middle of the street. Edward hops out of the car like it was on fire. She begins pacing back and forth, talking to herself, oblivious to passerby and traffic. "I am not going to do this. This is a fucking punchy move and I am not fucking punchy! Daddy would totally fucking understand. If he was here right now, he would say, 'Edward, get a grip. They are just fucking goggles, woman. You lose them, you get another pair. This is your life you are fucking around with, which you should not be doing because you only got one.'" Edward continues to pace, but now he is silent. Then... "This is my goddamn war. You see, Edward, what you are forgetting is those goggles are not just a device. They are a symbol of how your father, and his father before him, and his father before him, distinguished themselves in war. And when I took Marsellus Vicious' Woolong, I started a war. This is World War IV. That apartment in Venus, that is my Wake Island. In fact, if you look at it that way, it is almost kismet that Wen left it behind. And using that perspective, going back for it is not stupid. It may be dangerous but it is not stupid. Because there are certain things in this world that are worth going back for." That is it, Edward has talked herself into it again. She hops in the car, starts it up and takes off.   
  
Edward is not completely reckless. She has parked her car a couple of blocks from her apartment to check things out before she goes bopping through the front door.  
  
Edward walks down the alley until she gets to another street, then he discreetly glances out.  
  
Everything seems normal. More or less the right number of cars in the street. None of the parked cars appear out of place. None of them have a couple of goons sitting inside. Basically, it looks like normal morning activity in front of Edward's home. Edward peers around a wall, taking in the vital information. "Everything looks hunky dorie. Looks can be deceiving, but this time I do not think they are. Why waste the manpower to stake out my place. I would have to be a fucking idiot to come back here. That is how you are gonna beat them Edward Tivrusky, they keep underestimating you." she said to himself as she walks out of the alley and is ready for anything. She crosses the street and enters her apartment courtyard. Across the street from Edward's building, on the corner, is a combination donut shop and japanese restaurant. A big sign sticks up in the air with japanese letters on it with the translation "Sakaguchi Donut" on top and a graphic of a donut sticking out of a bowl of rice and noodles.  
  
Edward is in the courtyard of her apartment building. Once again, everything appears normal -- the laundry room, the pool, her apartment door -- nothing appears disturbed except a radio on the window advertising Megumi Hayashibara's next concert tour and then plays "Tamashii No Refuran". Edward climbs the stairs leading to her apartment, number 10. She steps outside the door and listens inside. Nothing. Edward slowly inserts the key into the door, quietly opening it.  
  
Edward's apartment has not been touched. She cautiously steps inside, shuts the door and takes a quick look around. Obviously, no one is there. Edward walks into her modest kitchen, and opens the refrigerator. She takes out a carton of milk and drinks from it "Looking good, Edward." She said. With carton in hand, Edward surveys the apartment. Then she goes to the bedroom. Her bedroom is like the rest of the apartment -- neat, clean and anonymous. The only things personal in his room are a few boxing trophies, an Olympic silver medal, a framed issue of "Hentai Magazine" with Faye Valentine on the cover, and a poster of Vash The Stampede and one of Gene Starwind. Sure enough, there are the goggles just like she said it was: on the desktop, laying on top of the laptop computer. She walks through the apartment and back into the kitchen. She opens a cupboard and takes out a couple slices of bread. Putting down the milk, she opens the bread, takes out two slices and puts them in the toaster. Edward glances to her right, her eyes fall on something. What he sees is a huge samurai sword, laying on her kitchen counter. "Holy shit." She said softly as she picks up the intimidating piece of weaponry and examines it. Then...a toilet flushes. Edward looks up to the bathroom door, which is parallel to the kitchen. There is someone behind it. Like a wolf caught by Oboshi, Edward freezes, not knowing what the fuck to do. The bathroom door opens and Spike Spiegel steps out of the bathroom, tightening his belt. Edward and Spike lock eyes. Spike freezes. Edward does not moce, except to point the sword in Spike's direction. Neither one opens their mouth. Then...the toaster loudly kicks up the slices of toast. That is all the situation needed. Edward swiftly slices Spike Spiegel in two. Lifting both parts in the air, propelling him through the air and crashing through the glass shower door at the end of the bathroom. By the time Edward stops, Spike is annihilated. Edward stands frozen, amazed at what just happened. His look goes from the blood bath in the bathroom that was once Spike Spiegel, down to the powerful piece of slice and dice sushi in his grip. With the respect it deserves, Edward carefully places the samurai sword back on the kitchen counter. Then he exits the apartment quickly.  
  
Edward, not running, but walking very rapidly, crosses the courtyard... ...comes out of the apartment building, crosses the street.... ...goes through the alley.... ...and into her car.  
  
Edward cranks the car into gear and drives away as "Paint It Black" by The Rolling Stones plays on his radio. "The big wide smile of a sole survivor breaks across her face.  
  
The Chevrolet turns down the alley and slowly cruises by his apartment building. Edward looks out the window at her former home. "That is how you are gonna beat them, Edward. They keep underestimating you." The boxer/hacker breaks a smile on her face. When the music started playing, she sings along with it. "I see a red door, and I want to Paint it black. No colors anymore, I want them to turn black." She drives by the apartment, but is stopped at the light on the corner across from Sakaguchi Donut. "I see the girls go by dressed in their summer clothes. I had to turn my head until my darkness goes." Edward is still singing along with the song as she sees through the windshield. The big boss himself, Marsellus Vicious, exit Sakaguchi Donut, carrying a box of a dozen donuts and two large styrofoam cups of coffee. He steps off the curb, crossing the street in front of Edward's car. Laughing girl stops when she sees the big man directly in front of her. When Vicious is in front of Edward's car, he casually glances to his left, sees Edward, continues walking...then stops! "Motherfucking Bitch!" Edward does not wait for the big boss to answer his own question. She stomps on the gas pedal. The little Chevrolet slams into Vicious, sending him, the donuts and the coffee hitting the pavement at thirty miles an hour. Edward cuts into cross traffic and is broad-sided by a gold, pimp car, breaking all the windows in the chevrolet and sending it up on the sidewalk. Edward sits dazed and confused in the crumpled mess of what at one time was Wen's Chevrolet. Blood flows from her nostrils. The still-functional tape player continues to play. A pedestrian pokes his head inside. "Jesus Christ, are you okay?" he asked as Edward looks at him, spaced-out.   
"I guess." he answered. Marsellus Vicious lies spawled out in the street. Gawkers gather around the body. The jerk's yelling makes Vicious come to his senses. Two pedestrians help the shaken Edward out of the wreckage as the woozy Vicious gets to his feet. "If you need a witness in court, I will be glad to help. She was a drunken maniac. She hit you and crashed into that car." The gawker said.  
"Who?" Vicious said while still incoherent.  
"Her" The gawker said as he pointed at Edward. Marsellus Vicious follows the gawker's finger and sees Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV down the street, looking at shambles. "Well, I will be damned." Vicious said as he takes out his Samurai Sword and starts moving toward Edward. Edward sees the fierce figure making a wobbly-bee-line toward him. "Sacre bleu." Marsellus Vicious brings up a .45 automatic and fires, but he is so hurt, shaky and dazed that his arm goes wild. He hits, a looky-loo citizen in the hip. She falls to the ground, screaming. "Oh my fucking god, I have been shot!" the citizen shouted. That was all Edward needed to see and she is out of here. Vicious continues running after him. The crowd looks agape. Edward is in a mad, limping run. The big boss' hot on his ass with a cockeyed wobbly run. Edward crosses traffic and dashes into a business with a sign that reads "Harrison's Pawnshop."  
  
Maynard Harrison, a hillbilly-looking boy, stands behind the counter of his pawnshop when, all of a sudden, chaos in the form of Edward races into his world. "Can I help you wit' somethin'?" he said.   
"Shut the fuck up!" Edward answered as she quickly takes measure of the situation, then stands next to the door.   
"Now you just wait one goddamn minute --" Before Maynard Harrison can finish his threat, Vicious charges in. He does not get past the doorway because Edward lands a laptop computer in Marsellus Vicious' face.   
"Come here, motherfucker!" The Red Dragon Crime Boss' feet go out from under him and the big boss falls flat on his back. Outside, two police cars with their sirens blaring race by. Edward pounces on the fallen body, pummeling him twice more in the face.   
"Feel that sting big guy?! that is pride, hacking with you!" He said.   
"You better kill me then!" Marsellus Vicious said.   
"Yeah, someone is gonna get killed. Somebody is gonna get their motherfucking head sliced off!" Edward yelled as she takes the sword out of Marsellus Vicious' hand, than grabs ahold of his middle finger. She breaks the finger. Vicious lets out a pain sound. Edward then places the sword tip between his eyes, placing his open hand behind the tip to shield the splatter.   
"-- hold it right there, goddamnit!" Maynard Harrison said as Edward and Marsellus Vicious look up at him, who is brandishing a pump-action shotgun, aimed at the two men.   
"Look mister, this is none of your goddamn business --" Edward said.   
" -- I am makin it my business! Now toss that sword!"   
"You do not understand, man!"   
"Toss the sword!" Harrison said as Edward tosses the sword.   
"Now, get your foot off the Red Dragon Boss, stand up and come to the counter." Edward slowly gets up and moves to the counter.   
"That motherfucker, was trying to kill me!" Edward muttered while backsweeping Marsellus Vicious in the gut. As soon as she gets there, Harrison hauls off, hitting her hard in the face with the butt of the shotgun, knocking Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV down and out. After Edward goes down, Maynard Harrison calmly lays the shotgun on the counter and moves to the telephone. Marsellus Vicious, from his position on the floor, groggily watches the pawnshop owner dial a number. Harrison waits on the line while the other end rings. Then picks it up.   
"Gordon? It is Harrison. The spider caught a coupl'a flies." Harrison said as Marsellus Vicious passes out.  
  
Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV and Marsellus Vicious are tied up in two separate chairs. In their mouths are two S&M-style ball gags (a belt goes around their heads and a little red ball sticks in their mouths). Both Edward and Vicious unconscous. Harrison steps in with a fire extinguisher and sprays them both until they are wide awake and wet as otters. The two prisoners look up at their captors. Harrison stands in front of them, fire extinguisher in one hand, shotgun in the other, and Vicious' .45 sticking in his belt. "Nobody kills anybody in my place of business 'cept me and Zed Gordon." Harrison said as the buzzer buzzes. "That' Zed Gordon." Without saying another word, Harrison climbs up the stairs that lead to red curtains and goes through them. Edward and Vicious hear on the other side of the curtains, Harrison let Gordon inside the stoor. Edward and Marsellus Vicious look around the room. The basement of the pawnshop has been converted into a dungeon. After taking in their predicament, Edward and Marsellus Vicious look at each other, all traces of hostility gone, replaced by a terror they both share at what they have gotten themselves into. Harrison and Gordon come through the curtains. Zed Gordon is an even more intense version of Maynard Harrison, if such a thing is possible. The two hillbillys are obviously brothers. Where Harrison is a vicious pitfull, Gordon is a deadly cobra. Zed Gordon walks in and stands in front of the two captives. He inspects them for a long time, then says to Harrison: "You said you waited for me?"   
"I did." Harrison answered.   
"Then how come they are all fuckin' beat up?" he asked.   
"They did that to each other, man. They was fightin' when they came in. This one here, the tomboy was goin' to shoot the Crime Boss there."   
"Is that so. You're gonna shoot him, Fag?" Gordon said to Edward. But Edward doesn't reply. "Hey, is Stella gonna be okay in front of this place?" Gordon asked.   
"Yeah, it ain't Wednesday is it?" Harrison said.   
"No, it's Friday."   
"Then she will be fine."   
"Well, Bring out The Pimp." Gordon said.   
"I think the Pimp's screwing." Harrison said.   
"Well, I guess you'll just have to tell 'em to stop screwing then, won't you?" Gordon said as Harrison opens a trap door in the floor.   
"Get up!" Harrison yelled in the hole. He reaches into the hole and back with the rising Pimp and his ho. The Pimp is a man with a feather on his hat, wearing kinky clothes, holding a cane. His ho was dressed in a gown-like dress. half her boob is showing as she covers it up with her hands. Zed Gordon takes the chair, sits it in front of the two prisoners, then lowers into it. Maynard Harrison stands next to The Pimp and his Ho, then backs away. Harrison hangs back while Gordon appraises the two prisoners. "Who is first?" he asked.   
"I am not for sure yet." Gordon answered. Then with his little finger, Gordon does a silent "Eenie, meany, miney, moe..." just his mouth mouthing the words and finger going back and forth between the two. Edward and Vicious are terrified as hell. Harrison looks back and forth at the victims. The Pimp and his Ho's eyes go from one to the other inside the mask. Gordon continues his silent sing-along with his finger moving left to right, then stops to Marsellus Vicious.   
"Guess that means you big boy."   
"Fuck You!" Vicious muffled out.   
"Wanna do it here?" Gordon asked.   
"Naw,drag the crime boss to Carlos' old room." Harrison said as Gordon grabs Marsellus Vicious' chair and drags him into Carlos' old room. Carlos, no doubt, was some other poor bastard that has the misfortune of stumbling into the Harrison Pawnshop. Whatever happened to Carlos is known only to Maynard Harrison and Zed Gordon because his old room, a back room in the back of the back room, is empty. As Vicious is dragged away, he locks eyes with Edward before he disappears behind the door of Carlos' old room. The Pimp rises along with his Ho. "Keep an eye on this one." Harrison said. The Pimp and his Ho bow their heads: "Yes". Harrison disappears into Carlos' old room. Zed Gordon turns on the stereo as suddenly, "Kim" by Slim Anus fills the air. Edward looks at the Pimp and his Ho. They giggle as if this were the funniest moment in the history of comedy. From behind the door the two hillbillys begin their rape intercourse. "Whoa, this man's got a bit of fight in 'em!" Harrison said as Edward hears Gordon and Harrison beat on Marsellus Vicious.   
"You wanna fight? You wanna fight? Now go! Come on motherfucker! I like to fight!" Edward pauses, listens to the voices.   
"Yeah!" Then, in a panic, hurriedly struggles to break free. The Pimp and his Ho are laughing wildly. The ropes are on too tight and Edward cannot break free. The Pimp and his Ho slap her knee laughing. He hears the hillbillys continue beating on Marsellus Vicious.   
"That's it...that's it boy, you're goin' fine. Ooooooooh, just like that....that's good. Yeah!" Harrison said as he began grunting faster. "Stay still...stay still goddamn ya! Gordon goddamnit, get over here and hold 'em!" Edward stops struggling and lifts up on her arms. Then, quite easily, the padded chair back slides up and off as if it were never connected by a bolt. The Pimp sees this and rises his cane up in the air. "Mothafucka!" The Pimp and his Ho flail wildly, preparing to fight the tomboy boxer. He shouts "Mothafucka!" Edward is out of her chair, quickly dispensing three boxer's punches to the Pimp and his Ho's face. The punches knock the two out, making them fall on their backs unconscous. Edward removes the ball gag, then silently makes his way through the red curtains.  
  
Edward sneaks to the door. On the counter is a big set of keys with a small card saying "Pimp Daddy" connected to the ring. Grabbing them, she is about to go out when she stops and listens to the hillbilly psychopaths having their way with Marsellus Vicious. Edward decides for the life of herself, she cannot leave anybody in a situation like that.   
"Yee! Yee-haw! Now Motherfucker!" So she begins rooting around the pawnshop for a weapon to bash those goddamn hillbillies' heads in with. She picks up a big destructive-looking hammer, then discards it. not destructive enough. She picks up a large slugger with "Ashitaka" marked on for size and puts it back. Next, a chainsaw, thinks about it for a moment, but then she spots what she has been looking for: Marsellus Vicious' Samurai Sword. It hands in it's hand-carved wood sheath from a nail on the wall, next to a neon "El Rey's" sign. Edward takes the sword off the wall, removing it from it's sheath. It is a magnificent piece of steel. It seems to glisten in the low-wattage light of the pawnshop. Edward touches the thumb to the blade to see if the sword is just for show. Not on your damn life. It is as sharp as it gets. This weapon seems made to order for the brothers Hell downstairs. Holding the sword pointed downward, Tai-kwon-do style, he disappears through the red curtains to take care of business.  
  
Edward quietly sneaks down the stairs leading to the dungeon. Slim Anus' "Kim" can now be heard going string behind the closed door that leads to Carlos' old room.  
  
Edward slowly pushes the door open. It swings open silently, revealing the rapists, who have switched positions. Zed Gordon is now bent over Marsellus Vicious, who is bent over a wooden horse with his pants pulled down. Maynard Harrison watches shouting at him "Shut the fuck up!" Both have their backs to Edward. Harrison grins, while Edward comes up behind him with Vicious' Samurai Sword. Miserable, Violated, and looking like a rag doll, Marsellus Vicious, red ball gag still in mouth, opens his watery eyes to see Edward coming up behind Harrison. His eyes widen. "Hey asshole!" Harrison turns around and sees Edward holding the sword. Edward screams...with one mighty swing, slashes Harrison across the front, moving past him, eyes and blade now locked on Zed Gordon. Maynard Harrison stands trembling, his front sliced open, in shock. Edward. while never taking her eyes off Gordon, thrusts the sword behind him, skewering Maynard Harrison, then extracts it, pointing the blade toward Zed Gordon. Maynard Harrison collapses. Gordon disengages from Marsellus Vicious in a hurry and his eyes go from the tip of Edward's sword to Vicious' .45 Automatic, which lies within reach. Edward's eyes follow Zed Gordon's.   
"You want that gun, Gordon? Pick it up." Gordon's hand inches toward the weapon. Edward grips the sword tighter. Zed Gordon studies Edward, she looks hard at Gordon as they both hear a voice.   
"Step aside, Edward." Edward steps aside, revealing Marsellus Vicious standing behind him, holding Maynard Harrison's pump-action shotgun. Kaboom!!!! Zed Gordon is blasted in the groin. Down he goes, screaming in agony. Vicious, looking down at his whimpering rapist, ejects the used shotgun shell. Edward lowers his sword and hangs back. "You okay?" Edward asked.   
"No. I am pretty fucking far from okay!" Vicious answered.   
"What now, Vicious?"   
"What now? Well let me tell you what now. I am gonna call a couple hard pipe-hitting Red Dragons, to go work on the holmes here with a pair of katanas, pliers and a blow torch." Vicious turns to Zed Gordon and says to him. "You hear me talking Hellbilly boy?! I am not through with you by a damn sight. I am gonna get Medieval on your ass."   
"No, I mean what now, between me and you?" Edward asked him while lowering the shotgun on the ground.   
"Oh, that what now? Well, let me tell you what now between me and you. There is no me and you. Not no more."   
"So we're cool?"   
"Yeah, we are cool. One thing I ask -- two things I ask: do not tell nobody about this. This shit is between me and you and Mr. soon-to-be-living-the-rest-of-his-short-ass-life-in-agonizing-pain, Rapist here. It ain't nobody else's business. Two: you leave town. Tonight. Right now. And when you are gone, stay gone. You have lost all your hacking privileges. Deal?" Vicious said.   
"Deal." Edward agreed as he hands Vicious back his sword. Vicious drops the shotgun as the two shake hands, then hug one another. "Go on now, get your ass out of here." Edward leaves Carlos' old room through the red curtains. Marsellus Vicious walks over to a phone, dialing a number. "Hello Mr. Yenrai, it is Vicious. I got a bit of a situation that needs to be taken care of."  
  
Edward, still shaking in her boots, exits the pawnshop. She looks ahead and sees, parked in front of the establishment, Gordon's Big Chrome Chopper with a teardrop gas tank that has the the name "Stella" on it. He climbs aboard, takes out the keys with the small "Pimp Daddy" sign on them and starts up the huge hog. It rumbles to life, making sounds like a rocket fighting for orbit. Edward twists the accelerator handle and speeds off.  
  
Wen stands in front or a mirror wearing a buttoned-up trenchcoat, singing along to Mai Yamane's "The Real Folk Blues" coming from a boom box.  
  
Edward drives down the street, humping a hot dog named "Stella." She checks her watch. It is now. 10:00. She rides up on Stella. She hops off and runs inside the motel room. "Edward, I was so worried!" Wen said.   
"Wen, grab your radio and your bag and let us get the hell out of here!" Edward said.   
"But what about all our bags?" He asked. "Fuck the bags. We will miss our train if we do not split now." Edward said.   
"Is everything well? Are we in danger?"   
"We are cool. In fact, we are supercool. But we got to go. I will wait for you outside." Edward runs out and hops back on the chopper. Wen exits the motel room with the boom box and a large bag. When he sees Edward on the chopper, he stops dead. "Where did you get this motorcycle?" Wen asked.   
"It is a chopper, Wen, hop on." Edward answered as Wen slowly approaches the two-wheel demon.   
"What happened to my Chevrolet?"   
"Sorry, Wen, I crashed the Chev."   
"You are hurt?"   
"I might have broke my nose, no big deal. Hop on." Edwards looks at Wen. He doesn't move.   
"Wen, we gotta hit the fucking road!" Edward said as Wen starts to cry. Edward realizes that this is not the way to get him on the bike. She turns off the engine and reaches out, taking her hand.   
"I am sorry I worried you, Wen. Everything is fine. Hey, how was breakfast?" Edward said as Wen's waterworks drys up a little.   
"It was good --"   
"-- did you get the cherry pie?"   
"No, they did not have the cherry pie. -- are you sure you are okay?"   
"From the moment I left you, this has been without a doubt the single weirdest day of my entire fucking life. Climb on and I will tell you all about it." Edward said as Wen climbs on the chopper. She starts Stella up. "Edward, whose motorcycle is this?" Wen asked.   
"It is a chopper." Edward answered.   
"Who does it belong to?" Wen said.   
"Zed Gordon's."   
"Who is Zed Gordon?"   
"Gordon is dead, baby, Gordon is dead." Edward said. And with that, the two lovebirds peel away on Stella, as the song "Naked Dance" by Two-Mix on the boom box rises. 


	7. The Transvestite Situation Part 1

Chapter Three: The Transvestite Situation  
  
Jet Black snaps, savagely tipping the card table over, removing the only barrier between himself and Witney Hagas Matsumoto. Witney now sits in a lone chair before Jet like a political prisoner in front of an interrorgator. "What planet you from!"   
"What?" Witney said petrified.   
"'What' is not no planet I ever heard of! Do they speak English in 'What?'" Jet said.   
"What?" Witney said near heart attack.   
"English motherfucker! Do you speak it?"   
"Yes."   
"Then you know what i am saying! Now describe what Marsellus Vicious looks like!" Jet said.   
"What?" Witney said out of fear as Jet Black takes his .45 and presses the barrel hard in Witney's cheek.   
"Say "What" again! Come on, say "What" again! I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker, say "What" one more goddamn time!" He said as Witney does his best.   
"Well he is ...he is...white --"   
"-- go on!"   
"...and he is...he is...got white hair --"   
"-- does he look like a bitch?!"   
"What?" Witney said without thinking. Jet's eyes go to Spike, Spike smirks, Jet rolls his eyes and shoots Witney in the shoulder. Witney screams, breaking into a shaking/trembling spasm in the chair.   
"Does he look like a bitch?!" Jet said.   
"No!" Witney said in agony.   
"Then why did you try to fuck him like a bitch, Witney?!" Jet said.   
"I did not." Witney said in spasm.   
"Yes you did. Yes you did, Witney. You tried to fuck him. And Marsellus Vicious does not like to be fuck by anybody except Faye Valentine. You read the bible, Witney?" Jet said. "There is a passage I got memorized seems appropriate for this situation: Ezekiel 25:17. 'The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequites of the selfish and tyranny of evil men..." In the bathroom of the Venus apartment. The fourth man is pacing around the small room, listening hard to what Jet Black is saying to Witney on the other side of the door, tightly clutching his huge silver, .357 Magnum.  
"Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Black dog when I lay my vengeance upon you.'" The fourth man freaks out. He throws himself against the back wall, gun outstretched in front of him, a look of yellow fear on his face, ready to blow in half anybody fool enough to stick their head through that door. Then he listens to them talk. The two hitmen empty their guns at the same time on the sitting Witney. When they are finished, the bullet-ridden carcass just sits there for a moment, then topples over. All is quiet. The only sound is Julius muttering in the corner.   
"...goddamn...goddamn...that was fucked up...goddamn, that was cold-blooded..."   
"Friend of yours, Jet?" Spike said, while pointing to the transvestite Julius.   
"Yeah, Julius-Spike-Spike-Julius." Jet answered.   
"Tell him to shut up, he is getting on my nerves." Spike said.   
"Julius, I would knock that shit off if I was you." Jet said. Waiting for them is not the smartest move. Bursting out the door and blowing them all away while they are fucking around is the way to go. The bathroom door bursts open and the fourth man charges out, silver Magnum raised, firing six booming shots from his hand cannon.   
"Die you motherfuckers! Die!" He screamed until he dry firing. Then a look of confusion crosses his face. Standing next to each other, unharmed. Amazing as it seems, none of the fourth man's shots appear have hit anybody. Spike Spiegel and Jet Black exchange looks like, "Are we hit?" They are confused at the shooter. After looking at each other, they bring their looks up to the fourth man.   
"I do not fucking understand --" The fourth man is taken out of the scenario by the two men's bullets who, unlike his, hit's their marks. He drops dead. The two men lower their guns. Jet, obviously shaken, sits down in a chair. Spike, after a moment of respect, shrugs it off. Then heads toward Julius in the corner.   
"Why the fuck did you not tell us about the guy in the bathroom? Slip your mind? Forget he was in there with a fucking hand cannon?" He asked Julius.   
"We should be fucking dead right now." Jet said to himself. He then turned his head toward Spike and Julius. "Did you see that gun he fired at us? It was bigger than him." Jet continued.   
".357 Magnum." Spike said.   
"We should be fucking dead!"   
"Yeah, we were lucky." Spike said as Jet rises, moving toward Spike.   
"That shit was not luck. That shit was something else." Jet said as Spike prepares to leave.   
"Yeah, maybe." Spike said.   
"That was...divine intervention. You know what divine intervention is?" Jet asked.   
"Yeah, I think so. Divine intervention means God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets of course." Spike said.   
"Yeah, man, that is what it means. That's exactly what it means! God came down from Heaven and stopped these motherfucking bullets." Jet explained.   
"I think we should be going now." Spike said.   
"Do not do that! Do not fucking do that, Spike! Do not blow this shit off! What just happened here was a fucking miracle!" Jet shouted.   
"Chill the fuck out, Jet, this shit happens." Spike said.   
"Wrong, wrong, this shit does not just happen."   
"Do you wanna continue this theological discussion in the ship, or at the jailhouse with the cops?" Spike said.   
"We should be fucking dead now, my friend! We just witnessed a miracle, and I want you to fucking acknowledge it!"   
"Okay man, it was a miracle, can we leave now?" Spike said as he opens the door.   
"Let us go nigger, come on!" Jet said as Julius gets up and does what he tells him.  
  
The Bebop propels itself into traffic. Spike turns on the radio as "Perfect Sense" plays. Jet is behind the wheel, Spike in the passenger seat and Julius the Transvestite in the back. "...ever seen that show "Big Shot?" I was watching it once and this bounty hunter who was on it who was talking about this time he got into this gunfight with a guy named Asimov in the alleyway. He unloads on this Asimov and he does not hit anything. And these guys were in a alleyway. It is freaky guys, but it happens." Spike said to Jet and their prisoner.   
"Look, if you wanna play blind man, then go walk with the Shepard. But me, my eyes are wide fucking open." Jet said.   
"What the fuck does that mean?" Spike asked.   
"That is it for me. For here on in, you can consider my ass retired." Jet answered.   
"Jesus Fucking Christ!"   
"Do not blaspheme!"   
"Goddamnit, Jet --"   
"-- I said do not do that --"   
"-- you are fucking freaking out!" Spike said.   
"I am telling Marsellus Vicious today I am through." Jet said.   
"While you are at it, be sure to tell him why?"  
"Do not worry, I will."  
"I will bet you ten thousand woolong, he laughs his ass off."   
"I do not give a damn if he does." Jet said as Spike turns to the backseat with the .45 casually in his grip.   
"Julius, what do you make of all this?" he asked.   
"Man, I do not even have an opinion." Julius said.   
"Come on, Julius. You gotta have an opinion. I mean, do you think that God came down from Heaven and stopped ---" Spike Spiegel's .45 goes BANG! Julius is hit in the upper chest, below the throat. He gurgles blood and shakes   
"What the fuck is happening? Oh shit, man!" Jet yelled.   
"Oh man, I shot Julius in the throat." Spike said.   
"Why the fuck did you do that?" Jet asked.   
"I did not mean to do it. It was an accident."   
"Oh man, I have seen some crazy-ass shit in my time but this ---" Jet said while wiping the blood off.   
"-- chill out, man, it was an accident, okay? You might of went over an asteriod or something." Spike said.   
"Hey, the car did not hit no motherfucking asteroid!" Jet said.   
"Look! I did not mean to shoot the son of a bitch transexual, the gun just went off, do not ask me how! Now I think the humane thing to do is put him out of his misery." Spike said. Jet cannot believe what Spike just did.   
"You wanna shoot him again?"   
"The trans is suffering. It is the right thing to do." Julius, suffering though he is, is listening to this debate.   
"This is really un fucking cool." Jet said as Spike turns to the backseat, placing the barrel of the .45 against Julius' forehead. Julius' eyes are as big as saucers. He tries to talk Spike out of this, when he opens his mouth, only gurgles come out.   
"Julius, I just want to apologize. I got nothing to do with this shit. And I want you to know I think it is fucked up." Jet said.   
"Okay, ISSP man, when I count three, blow the whistle. One... two... ...three." Jet blows the whistle hard and Bang. Julius was put out of his misery. The Bebop is now completely covered in blood. It is all over everything including Jet Black and Spike Spiegel.   
"Jesus Fucking Christ Almighty!"   
"Fuck.." Spike said to himself.   
"Well look at this fucking mess, man! We are driving around a city street in broad daylight --"   
"-- I know, I know, I wasn't thinking about the splatter."   
"Well you better be thinking about it now, motherfucker! We got to get this ship off the road. You know cops tend to notice shit like you are driving a ship drenched in motherfucking blood." Jet yelled.   
"Can we just take it to a friendly place?" Spike asked.   
"This is the Valley, Spike. Marsellus Vicious does not have no friendly places in the Valley." Jet answered.   
"Well, Jet, this is not my fucking town!" Spike shouted as Jet takes out a celluar phone and starts punching digits.   
"Who are you calling?" he asked.   
"A partner of mine in El Rey." Jet answered.   
"Where is El Rey." Spike said.   
"On the other side of the hill, by Sunrise Studios. If Roco's ass is not home, I do not know what the fuck we are gonna go, man. Because I do not got any other partners in 909." Jet said to Spike as he talks into the phone. "Hey Roco! How are you doing man, it is Jet Black. Listen up man, me and my friend are in some serious shit. We are in a car and we gotta get off the road, pronto! I need to use your garage for a couple hours. Roco, you know I cannot get into this shit on a celluar fucking phone. But what I can say is my ass is out in the cold and I am asking you for some sanctuary until our people can bring us in. I appreciate this, man -- -- Roco, I am aware of your situation. I am not going to fuck things up for you. I give you my word, partner, she will never know we were there." Jet said as he folds up the phone, turning to Spike. "We are set. But his sister comes home from work in an hour and a half and we gotta be out of there by then."  
  
The Bebop pulls into the garage of a two-bedroom suburban home.  
Jet Black is bent over a sink, washing his bloody hands while Spike Spiegel stands behind him. "We gotta be real fucking delicate with this Roco situation. He is one remark away from kicking our asses out the door."   
"If he kicks us out, what do we do?" Spike said.   
"Well, we are not leaving until we make a couple phone calls. But I never want it to reach that pitch. Roco's my friend and you do not bust in your friend's house and start telling them what is what." Jet explained as he rises and dries his hands. Spike takes his place at the sink.   
"Just tell him not to be abusive. He kind of freaked out back there when he saw the transvestite." Spike said.   
"Put yourself in his position. It is 7:59 in the morning. He just woke up, he was not prepared for this shit. I mean, shit, do not forget who is doing who a favor." Jet said as Spike finishes, then dries his hands on a white towel."   
"It the price of that favor means I got to take shit, he can stick that favor straight up our asses for all I care." Spike said. While finishing drying his hands, the towel is stained with red in blood.   
"Hey Fuck, Nigger! What the fuck did you just do to his fucking towel man?" Jet shouted as he grabs the towel.   
"I was just drying my hands."   
"You are supposed to wash them first."   
"You watched me wash them."   
"I watched you get them wet."   
"I was washing them. but this blood shit is real hard to get off. Maybe if he had some Lava, I could of done a better job."   
"And I used the same fucking soap you did and when I dried my hands, the towel did not look like a goddamn fucking Maxiepad. And what if he was to come in here seeing his towel looking like this, Spike? It is shit like this that is gonna bring this situation to a boil. Look, fuck it, alright. Who cares? I am telling you Spike, you best be cool. Because if I gotta get in to it with Roco on account of you....Look, I am not threatening you or anything. You know I respect you and all, just do not put me in this position all right." Jet said.   
"Jet, you ask me nice like that, no problem. He is your friend, you handle him." Spike said.  
  
Three men are standing in Roco's kitchen, each with a mug of coffee. Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, and Roco Bonnaro, a spirited young man in his early-20's dressed in a bathrobe.   
"Goddamn, Roco, this is some serious gourmet shit. Me and Spike would of been satisfied with some freeze-dried Tasters Choice. You spring this gourmet fucking shit on us. What flavor is this?"   
"Knock it off, Jet Black. I am not a cobb or corn, so you can stop buttering me up. I do not need you to tell me how good my coffee is. I am the one who buys it, I know how fucking good it is. When Stella goes shopping:, she buys shit. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it, I want to taste it. But what is on my mind at this moment is not the coffee in my kitchen, it is the dead transexual in my garage." Roco said.   
"Roco --"   
"-- I am talking. Now let me ask you a question, Jet. When you came driving in here, did you notice a sign out the front of house that said "Dead Transexual Storage?" Roco asked as Jet starts to "Roco" him --   
"-- answer the question. Did you notice a sign out in the front of my house that said. "Dead Transexual Storage?" Roco repeated.   
"No Roco, I did not." Jet answered.   
"You know why you did not see that sign?" he asked.   
"Why?"   
"Because it is not there cause storing dead transexuals are not my fucking business that is why!" Roco yelled as Jet started to "Roco" him again.   
"--- I am not through! Now do you not realize that if Stella comes home and finds a dead transexual in her house, I am gonna get divorced. No marriage counselor, no trial separation -- fucking divorced. And I do not wanna get fucking divorced. The last time me and Stella talked about this shit was gonna be the last time me and Stella talked about this shit. Now, fuck. I wanna help you out, Jet, I really do. But I am not gonna lose Stella doing it." Roco said.   
"Roco--"   
"--do not fucking Roco me, man, I cannot be Rocoed. There is nothing you can say that is gonna make me forget I love Stella. Now she is working the graveyard shift at the hospital. She will be coming home in less than an hour and a half. Make your phone calls, talk to your people, then get the fuck out of my house before she gets here." Roco said.   
"Rolling Stones, That is all we want. We do not want to fuck up your shit. We just need to call our people to bring us in."   
"You are fucking my shit up, you are fucking my shit up right now. You are gonna fuck my shit up big time when Stella gets here. Then I suggest you get to it. The phone is in my bedroom." Roco said as Jet crosses the room, exiting.   
"You are a friend, Roco, you are a good fucking friend." Jet called behind Roco.   
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I am a real good friend. Good friend, bad brother, soon to be ex-brother." Roco said to himself. He looks up and sees Spike. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked Spike.   
"I am Spike Spiegel. And Roco, thanks a bunch." Spike said as the two laugh.   
"Do not mention it." Roco said.  
  
Marsellus Vicious sits at his dining table in a comfortable robe, eating his breakfast, while talking on the phone. "...well, say she comes home. What do you think she will do?" Vicious paused a moment, wiping his mouth off with a paper towel and continued. "Well, no fucking shit she will freak. That is no kind of answer. You know her, I do not. How bad. a lot or a little?"  
  
Jet Black paces around in Roco's bedroom on the phone. "You have got to appreciate what an explosive element this Stella situation is. If she comes home from a hard day's work and find's a bunch of gangsters doing a bunch of gangster shit in her kitchen, there is no telling what she is apt to do." Jet said.   
"Let us speak of the unspeakable." Vicious said.   
"Probably exists, but unlikely."   
"Why possible but unlikely?"   
"Because if push met shove, you know I will take care of business. But push is not never gonna meet shove. Because you are gonna solve this shit for us. You are gonna take our asses out of the cold and bring it inside where it is warm. Because if I gotta get into it with my friend about his sister over your boy Spike, I am gonna have bad feelings." Jet said.   
"I have grasped that, Jet. All I am doing is contemplating the 'ifs.'" Vicious said.   
"I do not wanna hear about no motherfucking "ifs". All I wanna hear from your ass is: 'You have got no problems, Jet. I am on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for the calvary, which should be coming directly.'" Jet said.   
"You have got no problems, Jet Black. I am on the motherfucker. Go back in there, chill them niggers out and wait for Mao Yenrai, who should be coming directly."   
"You are sending Mao Yenrai?" Jet asked.   
"Oh, you feel better, motherfucker?" Vicious asked.   
"Shit Vicious, that is all you had to say." Jet said as hangs up the phone.  
  
A crap game is being played on a fancy crap table by gambles in tuxedos and lucky ladies in fancy evening gowns. In the bedroom, the tuxedo-clad Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai is sitting on a bed, phone in hand, and a small notepad that he jots details in. "Is she the hysterical type? When is she due? Give me the principals' names?" Mao said as he jots down on his notepad. The page has written on it: Park Avenue, El Rey, 1 body (no head) Bloody shot-up car, Jet Black (White) "Jet... ...Spike...Roco...Stella...." He writes: Spike Spiegel (Lone Wolf) Roco (Indy) Stella (9:30). Expect a call around 11:30. It is about thirty minutes away. I will be there in five." Mao said as he hangs up. 


	8. The Transvestite Situation Part 2

"Three Minutes and Thirty-Five Seconds Later."  
  
A silver Porsche whips the corner leading to Roco's home, in hyperdrive. Easily doing 145 mph, the Porsche stops on a dime in front of Roco's house. a ringed finger touches the doorbell: Ding Dong.  
  
Roco opens the door. He sees, standing in the doorway, the tuxedo-clad man. He looks down to his notebook, then up at Roco. "You are Roco, right? This is your house?" the tuxedo-clad man said.   
"Yeah." Roco answered.   
"I am Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai, I solve problems." The Wolf said.   
"Good, because we got one." Roco said.   
"So I heard. May I come in?" Yenrai asked.   
"Please do." Roco answered as the two men walk to the dining room.   
"I want to convey Mr. Vicious' gratitude with the help you are providing on this matter. Let me assure you Roco, Mr. Vicious' gratitude is worth having." Yenrai said. In the dining room, Spike and Jet stand up.   
"You must be Jet Black, which would make you Spike Spiegel. Let us get down to brass tacks, gentlemen. If I was informed correctly, the clock is ticking, is that right, Roco?"   
"100 Pecent." Roco said.   
"Your sister, Stella... ...comes home at 9:30 in the morning, is that correct?" Yenrai asked.   
"Uh-huh." Roco said.   
"I was led to believe if she comes home and finds us here, she would not appreciate it none too much."   
"She will not appreciate that. That gives us forty-five minutes to get the fuck out of Dodge, which, if you do what I say when I say it, should by plenty. Now you got a corpse in a ship, minus a head, in a garage. Take me to it."  
  
The three men hand back as Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai examines the ship. He studies the ship in silence, opening the door, looking inside, circling it. "Roco? Do me a favor, will you? Thought I smelled some coffee in there. Would you make me a cup?"   
"Sure, how do you take it?" Roco said.   
"Lots of cream, less sugar." Yenrai said as Roco exists and Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai continues his examination.   
"About the ship, is there anything I need to know? Does it stall, does it make a lot of noise, does it smoke, is there gas in it, anything?' he said.   
"Aside from how it looks, the ship is cool." Jet said.   
"Positive? Do not get me out on the road and I find out the brake lights do not work." Yenrai said.   
"Hey man, as far as I know, the motherfucker is tip-top." Jet said.   
"Good enough, let us go back to the kitchen." Mao Yenrai said.  
  
Back in the Kitchen, Roco hands Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai a cup of coffee. "Thank you, Roco." He takes a sip, then, pacing as he thinks, lays out for the three men the plan of action. "Okay first thing, you two. Take the body, stick it in the storage room of the ship. Now Roco, this looks to be a pretty domesticated house. That would lead me to believe that in the garage or under the sink, you got a bunch of cleansers and cleaners and shit like that, am I correct?" Mao Yenrai said.   
"Yeah. Exactly. Under the sink." Roco answered.   
"Good. What I need you two fellas to do is take those cleaning products and clean the inside of the ship. And I am talking fast, fast, fast. You need to go in the backseat, scoop up all those little pieces of brain and skull. Get it out of there. Wipe down the upholstery -- now when it comes to upholstery, it does not need to be spic and span, you do not need to eat off in. Give it a good once over. What you need to take care of are the really messy parts. The pools of blood that have collected you gotta soak that shit up. But the windows are a different story. Them you really need to clean. Get the windex, do a good job. Now Roco, we need to raid your linen closet. I need blankets, I need comforters, I need quilts, I need bedspreads. The thicker the better, the darker the better. No whites, cannot use them. We need to camouflage the interior of the ship. We are gonna line the front seat and the backseat and the floor boards with quilts and blankets. If a cop stops up and starts sticking his big fucking snout in the ship, the subterfuge will not last. But at a glance, the car will appear to be normal. Roco -- lead the way, boys -- get to work." Mao Yenrai explained. Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai and Roco turn, heading for the bedroom, leaving Spike and Jet standing in the kitchen.   
"A "please" would be nice." Spike called after him. Mao stops and turns around.   
"Come again?" Mao asked.   
"I said a "please" would be nice." Spike answered as Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai takes a step toward him.   
"Set it straight, buster. I am not here to say "please." I am here to tell you what to do. And if self-preservation is an instinct you possess, you better fucking do it and do it quick. I am here to help. If my help is not appreciated, lots of luck gentlemen."   
"It is not that way, Mr. Yenrai. Your help is definitely appreciated." Jet said.   
"Mr. Yenrai. I do not mean any disrespect. I respect you. I just do not like people barking orders at me." Spike said.   
"If I am curt with you, it is because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast, and I need you guys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So pretty please, with cherries on top, clean the fucking ship." Mao said.  
  
Roco Bonnaro is gathering all the bedspreads, quilts and linen he has while Mao Yenrai is on the phone. "It is an old fishing boat with "Bebop marked on the middle, green paint. Nothing, except for the mess inside that will take about twenty five minutes." Yenrai pauses for a moment and continues. "Nobody who will be missed. You are a good man, Bull. See you soon." Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai hangs the phone up and looks at Roco. "How are we coming, Roco?" Mao said as Roco comes over with a handful of linen. "Mr. Yenrai, you got to understand something --"  
"-- Mao, Roco -- please, Mao." Yenrai interrupted.  
"You got to understand something, Mao. I want to help you guys out and all, but that is my linen. It was a christmas present from our parents and they are not with us anymore --"  
"-- let me ask you a question, if you do not mind?"  
"Sure."  
"Were your parents billionaires?" Mao asked him.  
"No."  
"Well, your uncle Vicious is. And I am positive if your parents were billionaires, they would have furnished you with a whole bedroom set, which your uncle Marsellus Vicious is more than happy to do." Mao explained as he takes out a roll of woolong, unmarked bills. "I like silk myself, that is what is in my bedroom. How about you Roco, are you a silk man?"  
"Silk is nice." Roco said.  
  
Both Spike Spiegel and Jet Black are inside the ship cleaning it up. Spike is in the front seat washing windows, while Jet is in the backseat, picking up little pieces of skull and gobs of brain. Both are twice as bloody as they were before. "Oh, man. I will never forgive your ass for this shit. This is some fucked-up repugnant shit!" Jet said.   
"Jet, did you ever the philosophy that once a man admits that he is wrong, and he is immediately forgiven for all wrong-doings? Have you ever heard that?" Spike asked.   
"Man, get the fuck out of my face with that shit! The motherfucker who wrote that shit never had to pick up itty-bitty pieces of skull and brain with his fingers on account of your dumbass." Jet argued.   
"I got a threshold, Jet. I got a threshold for the abuse I will take. And you are crossing it. And I am right now a fucking racing ship and you got me in the red. Redline 12000, that is where you are. Just know, it is fucking dangerous to have a racing ship in the fucking red that is all. I could blow." Spike said.   
"Oh, you are getting ready to blow?" Jet asked.   
"Yeah, I am ready to blow." Spike answered as he turns his head to Jet.   
"Well I am a mushroom-cloud-laying motherfucker! Motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain I am "Big Shot T.N.T," I am the "Guns of Wyatt Fucking Earp." I am what Heero Yuy used to talk about. In fact, what the fuck am I doing in the back? You are the motherfucker who should be on brain and skull detail. We are fucking switching. I am washing windows and you are picking up this nigger's skull and brain." Jet said.  
  
The interior of the ship has been cleaned and lined with bedspreads and quilts. Believe it or not, what looked like a portable slaughtership can actually pass for a non-descript fishing ship. Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai circles the ship examining it. Spike and Jet stand aside, their clothes are literally a bloody mess, but they do have a sense of pride in what a good job they have done. "Fine job, gentlemen. We may get out of this yet." Mao said.   
"I cannot believe that is the same ship." Roco said.   
"Well, let us not start sucking werewolves' dicks quite yet. Phase one is complete, clean the ship, which moves us right along to phase two, clean you two." The Wolf said.  
  
Jet Black and Spike Spiegel stand side by side in their black suits, covered in blood, in Roco Bonnaro's backyard. Roco holds a plastic garbage bag, while Mao Yenrai holds a garden hose with one of those guns nossles attached. "Strip."   
"All the way?" Spike asked.   
"To your bare asses." Yenrai answered as they follow directions, Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai enjoys a smoke.   
"Quickly gentlemen, we got about fifteen minutes before Roco's better-half comes pulling into the driveway." Mao ordered them.   
"Goddamn this morning air is some chilly shit!" Jet said.   
"Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?" Spike asked.   
"You know what you two look like?" he asked.   
"What?"   
"Like a couple of guys who just blew off a transvestite's head. Yes, stripping off those bloody rags is absolutely necessary. Toss the clothes in Roc's garbage bag." Yenrai said.   
"Now Roco, do not do nothing stupid like putting that out in front of your house for Oscar the garbage man to take away." Jet said.   
"Do not worry, we are taking it with us. Roc, the soap." Roco hands the now-naked man a bar of soap.   
"Okay gentlemen, you both have been to County Prison before, I am sure. Here it comes." Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai hits the trigger, water shoots out, smacking both men.   
"Goddamn, that water's fucking cold!" Jet shouted.   
"Better you than me, gentlemen." The two hitmen, trembling, scrub themselves.   
"Do not be afraid of the soap, spread it around." Mao Yenrai said as he stops the hose, tossing it on the ground.   
"Towel them." Roco tosses them each a towel, which they rub furiously across the bodies.   
"You are dry enough, give them their clothes.   
"Okay fellas, in the one size fits-all category, we got swim trunks, one red -- one white. And two t-shirts. A KoRn shirt and an "I am with dumbass" shirt." Roco said.   
"I get the "I am with dumbass" shirt." Jet said.  
  
Jet Black and Spike Spiegel in their tee-shirts and swim trunks. They look a million miles away from the black-suited, bad-asses we first met. "Perfect. Perfect. We could not have planned this better. You guys look like...what do they look like, Roco?" The Wolf asked.   
"Freaks. They look like a couple of freaks." Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai and Roco Bonnaro laugh.   
"Ha ha ha. They are your clothes, motherfucker." Jet said.   
"I guess you just gotta know how to wear them." Roco said.   
"Yeah, well, our asses are not the expert on wearing freaky shit that yours is." Jet said.   
"Come on, gentlemen, we are laughing and joking our way into prison. Do not make me beg." The Wolf said as they start walking through the house to the garage.   
"Wait a minute, before you guys split, I wanna get a picture of this." Roco said.   
"Roco, have you forgotten about your sister coming home?" Jet asked.   
"It w ill not take a second." he said.   
"I do not like this photograph shit." Spike said.   
"Sorry -- my house, my rules." Roco said.  
  
The garbage bag is tossed in the ship storage on top of Julius The Transvestite. Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai slams the storage room closed. "Gentlemen, let us get our rules of the road straight. We are going to a place called Monster Bull's Truck and Tow. Monster Bull and his daughter Annie are sympathetic to our dilemma. The place is North of Sunrise, so a few twist and turns aside. We will be going up Sunrise Way. Now I will drive the tainted ship. Jet, you ride with me. Spike, you follow in my porsche. Now if we cross the path of any John Quincy Laws, nobody does a fucking thing until I do something." Mao turns to Jet and says to him: "What did I say?"   
"Do not do shit unless --" Jet said.   
"-- unless what?" The Wolf asked.   
"Unless you do it first." Jet answered.   
"Spoken like a true prodigy." Mao then turns his sight to Spike.   
"How about you, Fieldy? Can keep your spurs from jingling and jangling?"   
"I am cool, Mr. Yenrai. My gun just went off, I don't know how." Spike said.   
"Fair enough. I drive real fucking fast, so keep up. If I get my car back any different than I gave it, Monster Bull is gonna be disposing of two bodies." The Wolf said.   
"Why do you drive so fast?" Jet asked.   
"Because it is a lot of fun." Mao Yenrai said as Jet and Spike laugh.   
"Let us move."   
"Wait a minute, I want to take a picture." Roco said as he comes through the door, camera in hand.   
"We do not got time, Roco." Jet said.   
"We got time for one picture. You and Spike together." Roco said as Spike and Jet stand next to each other.   
"Okay, you guys put your arms around each other." The two hitmen look at each other and, after a long beat, a smile breaks out. They put their arms around each other. "Okay Mao Yenrai, get in there." he said.   
"I am no model." The Wolf said.   
"After what a cool guy I have been, I cannot believe you do me like this. It is the only thing I asked." Roco said.   
"Okay, one photo and we go." Mao Yenrai said.   
"Everybody say Pepsi."   
"I am not saying fucking Pepsi." Jet shouted.   
"Smile, Mr. Yenrai." Roco said.   
"I do not smile in pictures." Mao said as the camera goes off, flashing in a white bright light. The photo fades up over white revealing the photo of Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, their arms around each other, next to Roco whose arm is around Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai. Everyone is smiling except you-know-who.  
  
Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai is counting out five-hundred woolong to an older man in a dirty t-shirt, Monster Bull. His office looks like the office of every tow yard on the planet. A filthy, disarrayed mess. "I said it before, I will say it again, your business is always welcome." Bull said.   
"I would think by now I have earned the equivalent of Frequency miles." Mao said.   
"I will tell you what, if you ever need it, I will dispose of a body part for free."   
"How about an upgrade, you dispose a whole body for the price of a body fucking part." The Wolf said as he and Bull laugh.   
"That one I need to speak with my accountant on."   
"Where is that reprobate daughter of yours?" The Wolf asked.   
"Out in the yard, up to no good." Bull said.  
  
Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai steps outside and is joined by Monster Bull's daughter, Annie. They walk in step across the yard with their arms around each other's waists. "Hello, Mr Yenrai!" Annie shouted.   
"Hello, Annie. I swear, heartbreaker, Bull should change the name of this place to Romeo and Juliet Truck and Tow." The Wolf said.   
"You are prejudiced because you love me." Annie said.   
"Guilty." Mao said.   
"Now business is done, it is time for pleasure." Annie said.   
"The time it is, is time for bed."   
"Contre senior Lobo." Annie said.   
"Do you have a different idea?" he asked.   
"Most definitely." Annie answered.   
"What do you think?" Yenrai asked.   
"I think you are taking me out to breakfast."   
"Well, you though wrong."   
"That is not fair! I never get to see you." Annie said   
"Annie, I been up all night. I need sleep. You understand the concept of sleep?" Mao asked.   
"Yes, sleep is what you do after you have taken me to breakfast. Just get used to the idea, indulging me is the price of doing business at Monster Bull's Truck and Tow." Annie said.   
"Annie --" Mao said.   
"I have not seen in a long time. I miss you, we are going to breakfast. So it is written, so shall it be done." Annie said. They exit the tow yard. Spike and Jet wait by Mao Yenrai's Porsche.   
"We cool?" Jet asked.   
"Like it never happened." The Wolf said as Jet and Spike bump fists.   
"I apologize for being in your shit like I was." Jet said.   
"You had every right, I fucked up." Spike said.   
"Are they having a moment?" Annie asked The Wolf.   
"Boys, this is Annie. Someday, all this will be hers."   
"Hi. You know, if they ever do "Char's Counterattack," you guys, I would be great. What is with the outfits. You guys going to a Rock concert?" Annie said as The Wolf laughs and the boys groan.   
"I am taking my lady out to breakfast. Maybe I can drop you two off. Where do you live?" Mao asked.   
"Mars." Spike said.   
"ISSP." Jet said as Mao "The Wolf" Yenrai grabs Jet's wrist and pantomimes like he is in a "Dead Zone" trance.   
"It is your future: I see...a cab ride. Sorry guys, move out of the sticks. Say goodbye, Annie."   
"Goodbye, Annie." she said.   
"I will see you two around, and stay out of trouble, you crazy kids." The Wolf said as he turns to leave.   
"Mr. Yenrai, It was a pleasure watching you work." Jet said.   
"Call me Mao." The Wolf smiled as he turns and banters with Annie as they get in the Porsche.   
"You hear that, young lady? Respect. You could learn a lot from those two fine specimens. Respect for one elder's shows character."   
"I have character." Annie said.   
"Just because you are a character does not mean you have character." Mao said.   
"Oh you are so funny, oh you are so funny." Mao Yenrai said as the Porsche shoots off down the road. The two hitmen left alone look at each other.   
"Wanna share a cab?" Jet asked.   
"You know I could go for some breakfast. Want to have breakfast with me?" Spike asked.   
"Sure. But first let us change our fucking clothes." Jet answered. 


	9. Epilogue Part 1

Spike Spiegel and Jet Black sit at a booth, dressed back in their Black-suits. In front of Spike is a big stack of pancakes and sausages, which he eats with gusto. Jet, on the other hand, just has a cup of coffee and a muffin. He seems far away in thought. The waitress pours a refill for both men. "Thanks a bunch." Spike said.   
"Want a sausage, Jet?" Spike asked him.   
"No, I do not eat pork." Jet answered.   
"Are you Jewish?"   
"I am not Jewish, I just do not dig on swine." Jet answered.   
"Why not?" Spike said.   
"They are filthy fucking animals. I do not eat filthy fucking animals." Jet said.   
"Sausages taste good. Pork chops taste fucking good." Spike said.   
"A rotting corpse rat may taste like pumpkin pie. I will never know because even if it did, I would not eat the filthy motherfucker. Pigs sleep and root in shit. That is a filthy animal. I do not want to eat nothing that do not have enough sense to disregard it's own feces." Jet explained.   
"How about dogs? Dogs eat their own faces."   
"I do not eat dog either."   
"Yes, but do you consider a dog to be a filthy?" Spike asked.   
"I would not go so far to call a dog filthy, but they are definitely dirty. But a dog's got personality. And personality goes a long way." Jet said.   
"So by that rationale, if a pig had a better personality, he is cease to be a filthy animal?" Spike asked.   
"We would have to be talking about one motherfucking charming pig. It would have to be the fucker of all pigs." Jet said as the two hitmen laughed.   
"Good for you. Lighten up a little. You been sitting there all quiet." Spike said.   
"I just been sitting here thinking." Jet said.   
"About what?"   
"The miracle we witnessed."   
"The miracle you witnessed. I witnessed a freak occurance." Spike said.   
"Do you know what a miracle is?" Jet asked.   
"An act of God." Spike answered.   
"What is an act of God?" Jet asked.   
"I guess it is when he makes the impossible possible. And I am sorry Jet, but I do not think what happened this morning qualifies." Spike said.   
"Do you not see, Spike, that shit does not matter. You are judging this thing the wrong way. It is not about what. It could be he stopped the bullets, he changed beer into wine, he found my fucking ship keys. You do not judge shit like this based on merit. Wheter or not what we experienced was an according to God miracle is insignificant. What is significant is I felt his touch, he got involved." Jet said.   
"But why?" Spike asked.   
"That is what is fucking with me! I do not know why. But I cannot go back to sleep." Jet answered.   
"So you are serious, you are really going to quit?" Spike said.   
"The life, most definitely, Spike." Jet said as Spike takes a bite of food and he takes a sip of coffee.   
"Sista! Coffee!" A patron shouted out to the waitress.   
"So if you are quitting the life, what will you do?" Spike asked.   
"That is what I have been sitting here contemplating. First, I am going to deliver this case to Marsellus Vicious. Then, basically, I am going to go and walk the galaxy." Jet said.   
"What do you mean, walk the galaxy?" Spike asked.   
"You know, like Captain Harlock from the 'Harlock Saga'." Jet answered.   
"How long do you intend to walk the galaxy?"   
"Until God puts me where he wants me to be." Jet answered.   
"What if he never does?"   
"If it takes forever, I will wait forever."   
"So you decided to be a bum now?" Spike said.   
"I will just be Jet Black, Spike -- no more, no less." Jet said.   
"No Jet, you are going to be like those pieces of fucking shit out there who beg for change. They walk around like a bunch of fuckng zombies, they sleep in garbage disposals, they eat what everybody throws away, and dogs piss on them. They got a word for them, they are called fucking bums. And without a job, residence, or legal tender, that is what you are going to be, Jet Black -- a fucking bum!" Spike argued.   
"Look my friend, this is just where me and you differ --"   
"-- what happened was peculiar -- no doubt about it -- but it was not beer into wine." Spike said.   
"All shapes and sizes, Spike." Jet said.   
"Stop fucking talking like that!" Spike shouted.   
"If you find my answers frightening, Spike, you should cease asking horror questions." Jet said.   
"When did you make this decision -- while you were sitting there eating your muffin?" Spike asked.   
"Yes. I was just sitting here drinking my coffee, eating my muffin, playing the incident in my head, when I had what bloody eye assholes sometimes refer to as a "moment of clarity." Jet answered.   
"I gotta take a shit. To be fucking continued." Spike said as he exits for the restroom. 


	10. Epilogue Part 2

Jet Black, alone, takes a mouthful of muffin, then... Coffee and Shaft Brother prepare for their heist.  
"I love you, Shaft Brother."   
"I love you, Coffee." And with that, Shaft Brother and Coffee grab their weapons, stand up and rob the restuarant. Shaft Brother's robbery personality is that of the in-control professional. Coffee's Personality is that of the pure psychopathic, hair-triggered, loose cannon.   
"Everybody be fucking cool this is a robbery!" Shaft Brother yelled out to all.   
"Any of you fucking pricks move and I will execute every motherfucking last one of you! Got that?!" Coffee shouted out. Jet looks up, not believing what the hell he is seeing. Under the table, Jet's hand goes to his .45 automatic. He pulls it out, cocking it. "Customers stay seated, waitresses on the fucking floor!" Shaft Brother shouted.  
"Now mean fucking now! Do it or die, do it or fucking die!" Coffee said and like lighting, Shaft Brother moves over to the kitchen. While Coffee screams out threats to the patrons, keeping them all terrified. "You fucking mexicans in the kitchen, get the fuck out of here! Asta luego! On the floor or I will cook your ass, comprende?" Four cooks and five busboys come out of the kitchen as the terrified manager speaks up. "I am the manager here, there is no problem, no problem at all --" he said as Shaft Brother heads his way. "You are going to give me a problem?" Shaft Brother reaches him and sticks the barrel of his gun hard in the manager's neck. "What? You said you are going to give me a fucking problem?"  
"No, I am not. I am not going to give you any problem!"  
"I do not know, Coffee. He looks like the hero type to us!"  
"Do not take any chances. Just execute him!" Coffee shouted while the patrons scream. Jet Black watches all this silently, his hand tightly gripping the .45 Automatic under the table. "Please do not! I am not a hero. I am just a coffee shop manager, damn it. Take anything you want and leave us in peace."  
"Now you talk to the customers, you tell them to be fucking cool! And this will all be over! You understand me?!" Shaft Brother said.  
"Everybody just be calm and cooperate with them and this will all be over soon!" The manager announced.  
"Well done, now get your fucking ass on the ground." Shaft Brother said as he pushed the coffee shop manager to the ground. Spike Spiegel, on the toilet, oblivious to the pandemonium heist outside, reads his 'Red Dragon' book. Shaft Brother opens the cash register drawer, stuffing most of the woolong from the till into his pocket. Then walks from behind the counter with a trash bag in his hand. "Alright people, I am going to come around and collect your wallets. Do not fucking talk. Just throw them in the bag. are we clear? I said are we fucking clear?!" The hostages nodded to Shaft Brother as he goes around the restaurant collecting wallets from the patrons. Jet sits with his .45 ready to spit under the table. Shaft Brother sees Jet Black sitting in his booth, holding his wallet and Marsellus Vicious' briefcase next to him. Shaft Brother crosses to him, his tone more respectful, mannering him more on guard. "In the bag." Jet drops his wallet in the bag. Using his gun as a pointer, while Shaft Brother points to the briefcase. "What is in that?"  
"My boss' dirty weapons."  
"You boss makes you wash his weapons?"  
"When he wants them clean."  
"Sounds like a blowjob."  
"Funny, I have been thinking the same thing."  
"Open it up." Shaft Brother ordered him as Jet's free hand lays palm flat on the briefcase. "I am afraid I cannot do that." Jet said. Shaft Brother is now definitely surprised by his answer. He aims the gun right in the middle of Jet Black's right eye and pulls back the hammer. "I did not hear you."  
"Yes you did." This exchange becomes kind of quiet, not everybody heard it, but Coffee senses something is wrong. "What is going on?" she asked.  
"Looks like we got a vigilante in our midst." Shaft Brother answered.  
"Shoot him in the face!"  
"I do not mean to shatter your ego, but this is not the first time I have had a gun pointed at me."  
"You do not open up that fucking case, it is going to be the last."  
"Stop causing problems, you will get us all killed! Just give them what you got and get them out of here."  
"Shut the fuck up, fat man, this is none of your goddamn business!" Jet shouted out as Coffee scans the restaurant. "Be cool, Coffee. Be cool. I got it all under control here. I am counting to three, and if your hand is not off that briefcase, I am going to unload right in your motherfucking face. Clear?" Shaft Brother warned Jet as he closed his eyes. "One... ...two..." Jet Black shoots Shaft Brother twice, up through the table, sending him to the floor. While still in the booth, he swings around to Coffee, who has aimed at Jet, but slowed down by the shock of Shaft Brother getting shot. He fires three times. Coffee takes all three hits in the chest. As she falls screaming, she fires wildly, hitting a long hair yuppie-scum. "She shot me! I am dying!" the yuppie yelled out as Jet Black now brings the gun down to Shaft Brother's face. Shaft Brother lies shot on the floor at Jet's feet. Shaft Brother looks up at the big gun. "Wrong guy, Eddie." Jet fires straight into Shaft Brother's cheekbone, blinding up with a flash from the gun. Jet Black's eyes are still closed, now suddenly open as Shaft Brother still stands, holding the gun on his right eye as he raises his hand off the briefcase. "...three."  
"You win. It is all yours, Eddie."  
"Open it." Shaft Brother said as Jet flips the locks and opens Marsellus Vicious' briefcase. The same light shines from the case as Shaft Brother's expression goes to amazement. Coffee, across the room, cannot see shit. "What is it? What is it?"  
"It is beautiful. Is that what I think it is?" he asked softly as Jet nods his head "yes."  
"Goddammit, what is it?" Coffee asked. Jet slams the case closed, then sits back, as if he is offering the case to Shaft Brother. Shaft Brother, one big smile, bends over to pick up the case and like a wolf, Jet Black's free hand grabs the wrist of Shaft Brother's gun hand, slamming it on the table. His other hand comes from under the table and sticks the barrel of his .45 hand under Shaft Brother's chin as Coffee freaks out, waving her gun in Jet's direction. "You let him go! Let him go! I will blow your fucking head off! I will kill you! I will kill you! You are going to die, you are going to fucking die bad!"  
"Tell that bitch to be cool! Say, bitch be cool! Say, bitch be cool! Tell that fucking bitch to chill!" Jet shouted out to Shaft Brother.  
"Chill out, Coffee!"  
"Let him go!"  
"Tell her it is going to be okay." Jet said softly.  
"I am going to be alright."  
"Promise her."  
"I promise."  
"Tell her to chill."  
"Just chill out, Coffee."  
"What is her name?"  
"Coffee." Shaft Brother answered. Whenever Jet Black talks to Coffee, he never looks at her, only at Shaft Brother. "So, are we cool Coffee? We are not going to do anything stupid, are we?" Jet asked her as she began to cry.  
"Do not hurt him."  
"Nobody is going to hurt anybody. We are going to be like three Duos. And what is Duo like?" Jet asked but there was no answer. "Come on, Coffee, What is Duo Maxwell like?"  
"He is cool?" Coffee said unsuringly through tears.  
"Correct-amundo! And that is what we are going to be, we are going to be cool." Jet said as he now turned his sight to Shaft Brother. "Now Eddie, I am going to count to three and I want you to let go of your gun and lay your palms flat on the table. But when you do it, you do it cool. Ready? One...two...three." Shaft Brother lets go of his gun and places both hands on the table, looking at Jet Black. But Coffee cannot stand it anymore. "Okay, now let him go!"  
"Coffee, I thought you were going to be cool. Now, when you yell at me, it makes me nervous. When I get nervous, I get scared. And when motherfuckers get scared, that is when motherfuckers accidentally get shot."  
"Just so you know: you hurt him, you die." Coffee said more conversationally.  
"Well that seems to be the situation. Now I do not want that and you do not want that and Eddie here definitely does not want that either. So let us see what we can do." Jet said as he explains to Shaft Brother. "Now this is the situation. Normally both of your asses would be dead as fucking sushi. But you happened to pull this shit while I am in a transitional period. I do not want to kill you, I want to help you. But I am afraid I cannot give you this briefcase. Because it does not belong to me. Besides, I went through too much bullshit this morning on account of this case just to hand it over to your dumbasses."  
"What the fuck is going on here?" Coffee whips her gun toward the stranger. Spike Spiegel, by the bathroom, has his gun out, dead-aimed at Coffee. "It is cool, Spike! It is cool! Do not do a goddamn thing! Coffee, it is cool, nothing has changed. We are still just talking, Tell her we are still cool, Eddie." Jet said to Spike, Coffee and Shaft Brother.  
"It is cool, Coffee, we are still cool." Shaft Brother said.  
"What the hell is going on, Jet?" Spike asked, raising his gun at Coffee.  
"Nothing I cannot handle. I want you to just hang back and do not do shit unless it is absolutely necessary." Jet explained.  
"Check."  
"Coffee, how are we doing, girl?"  
"I got to go take a piss! I want to go home." Coffee answered.  
"Just hang in there, dear, you are doing great, Eddie is proud of you and so am I. It is almost over with." Jet said as he now turned back to Shaft Brother. "Now I want you to go in that bag and find my wallet."  
"Which one is it?"  
"It is the one that says 'Tough Motherfucker' on it" Jet said as Shaft Brother looks in the bag and -- sure enough -- there is a wallet with 'Tough Motherfucker' embroidered on it. "That is my tough motherfucker. Now open it up and take out the woolong. How much is there?"  
"About twenty-five hundred woolong  
"Put it in your pocket, it is yours. Now with the rest of them wallets and the register, that makes this a pretty successful huge score." Jet said.  
"Jet, if you give that fucking cocksucker twenty-five woolong, I am going to shoot him on general principle." Spike impatiently said as Coffee turned her direction to Spike Spiegel.  
"Now, Coffee! He is not going to do a goddamn motherfucking thing, Spike Spiegel shut the fuck up!" Jet shouted out as Coffee turned back to Jet. "Besides I am not giving it to him. I am buying something for my woolong. You want to know what I am buying Eddie?"  
"What?"  
"Your life. I am giving you that woolong so I do not have to kill your dumbass. You read the bible?" Jet said.  
"Not regularly."  
"There is a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the  
righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish  
and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of  
charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the  
darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of  
lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Black Dog when I lay my vengeance upon you." I been saying that shit for years. And if you ever heard of it, it means your ass. I never really questioned what it really means. I just thought it was some cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap straight in his ass. But I saw some shit this morning which made me think ten time. Now I am thinking, it could mean you are the wicked man. And I am the savior. And Mr. .45 here, he is the one protecting my savior ass in the valley of darkness. Or you are the savior and I am the one who is the savior's protector and it is the world that is wicked and cruel. I would like that. But that bullshit is not the truth. The truth is you are the pathetic. And I am the hunter of wicked men. But I am trying. I am trying real hard to be a savior." Jet Black said as he lowers his gun, lying it on the table. Shaft Brother looks at him, to the woolong in his hand, then to Coffee as she looks back. Grabbing the trash bag full of wallets, the two walk out the door, hand-in-hand with the bag of wallets with using further violence. Jet Black, who has never risen from his seat the whole time, takes a sip of his drink and mutters to himself. "It is fucking cold." He pushes it aside as his partner, Spike Spiegel appears next to him. "I think we should be leaving now, Jet."  
"That is probably a good idea." Spike Spiegel throws some woolong on the table and Jet Black grabs the briefcase. Then, to the amazement of the patrons, the waitresses, the cooks, the bus boys, and the manager, these two bad-asses -- wearing the black suits and packing .45 automatics - walk out of the coffee shop together without saying a word as "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" by Bob Dylan plays on the shop's radio. 


End file.
